In Starlight
by Michi Shojo
Summary: When she woke, the only things she had were the clothes on her back, not even a name. Found in the starlight, she was given the name of Idria, by Thorin, the leader of a company out to reclaim their home. She learns to live and grows to love, for the dwarf with the brooding eyes shows her just how strong people can be, when defending that which they love most. ThorinXOC
1. Awakening

Awakening

It was the evening when she woke. Not the dead of night, but the lighter kind of evening where the horizon is still lined with the orange of the sun. She was lying on her back in the green of the forest, the grass underneath her like a thick blanket. She faced upwards, staring at the trees that towered overhead. The floor beneath her seemed to sigh, as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. She blinked, once, twice, and shook her head. Dark brown hair fell over her shoulders, and she sighed. For a moment, she felt warm, yet disconnected. As if she were lying in warm water.

Then she jolted. An electric tingle ran through her nerves and a cold shiver pricked at her spine. She spoke,

"What… where am I?" She spoke in the language of men, the common tongue throughout middle earth. But she sounded different. Her voice took on the tones of a shallow stream rolling over pebbles. It was natural, not too loud or harsh on the surroundings. Then she spoke again, "What am I doing?" Whether she expected to suddenly remember, or have the answer somehow whispered to her, it was impossible to tell. But neither happened, the forest remained quiet.

So she stood up, and when she'd gotten to her feet, she swooned and nearly fell. But she caught herself, planted her feet on the ground and looked around. The night was progressing, shadows deepening as the sun receded. A cold breeze blew past and ran over her cheeks, but her clothing kept her warm. She wore tight leggings made of a coarse fabric, a dark tunic and knee high boots made out of brown leather. She also had a hooded cape draped about her shoulders, fastened in the centre or her neck with a copper brooch in the shape of an oak leaf. Her fingers came up and brushed against it and found the dull surface cold to touch. She withdrew her fingers and instead ran them over herself. Her head, waist and her cloak, searching for anything she might have. But her search was fruitless, and she had nothing but the clothes on her back.

Nothing. Not even a name… That was her third question, "Who… Who am I?" the voice didn't betray fear, just a worry, a slight tremble. But she held herself together, ran her fingers through her wavy hair and tried to decide what to do. A name and what she was doing could come next, but first she should probably try to find out where she was. She took a few steps, the boots she wore let her travel quietly and the only sound was the rustling of leaves underfoot. She walked in a rough straight line, heading for the area of the woods that seemed a little less dark than the trees around it. It was strange, there almost seemed to be an orange light coming from that direction. At first she thought it was the sky, but then she thought otherwise. The sky was getting darker, the stars and moon shining. But as she drew closer the orange light seemed to grow. She faltered, wondering what it was. So she stood still and waited.

It was then that she heard the sounds. Voices, masculine voices that echoed through the trees. There were a number of them, she guessed around ten people. She didn't move closer for a better look, but instead chose caution and hovered around the edge of the trees, listening. Secondary noises revealed themselves, a soft neighing from horses or maybe ponies. There was also a clinking of metal, and a crackle from flames. For that was what the orange glow was, a fire. She listened to the voices; they seemed tired and maybe strained. But there was no apparent malice in the sounds; she felt that the people may not be a danger. She considered going over to them and revealing herself, but held back. Instead she moved quietly and slower than before toward the noises. She would watch the people, see if she could trust them.

When she reached the edge of the area, she pressed herself against the trunk of a tree and watched. At first she picked out shapes by the fire, seven wide, yet shorter bodies sat or lying by the fire. Even though she had never encountered people like them before, she knew that they were not men. Dwarves… that word was in her head, though she had no memories to link it to. Each was different, in different clothes and each had a beard. They had weapons hung from their bodies, swords, hammers, and one had a catapult. She looked away and saw some more, two were sat in a small cave in a rock. She guessed those two were younger, they seemed livelier and their beards were much shorter, almost non-existent. Both had swords and one had a bow and quiver of arrows next to him.

She found other dwarves, these ones were asleep and their faces shrouded so she couldn't make out any more features. But each one had a weapon in reach, and that was what kept her back. She couldn't think of a way to approach without startling them. She didn't want to end up with a sword to the chest or an arrow through the heart. The thought made her move back, and she changed her position, moving to the edge of the group. There she had a clear view of the ponies, sixteen of them huddled in a circle. A single dwarf guarded them, then something else approached. It wasn't a dwarf, it was shorter and much thinner than them. And it approached silently, she hadn't heard it at all. It looked a little like a dwarf or man, but had no beard and wore more… homely clothes. No armour and no weapons. She watched as he approached a pony and whispered to it, then put a hand in his pockets and pulled out an apple. The pony took it, he smiled. Then the air was pierced by a sharp cry, or a howl. It sent a chill through her bones, and without thinking she tensed her muscles ready to spring away. The other person obviously felt the same. He retreated, turned to the dwarves,

"What was that?" The two dwarves in the cave looked at each other, then one spoke,

"That was an Orc." The smaller fellow took a few steps closer, as if the fire could protect him.

"Orcs?" Then he looked over his shoulder at the horizon. The dwarf continued,

"They attack in the dead of night, when everyone is asleep." Her stomach felt cold, she was afraid now. If these dwarves were caught by orcs, she'd be caught with them. "There's no fight, no screams. Just lots of blood." Her breath caught in her throat, a gasp threatened to escape. But then she saw the two dwarves grinning behind his back at each other. A grin that showed they were telling tales, and that at least the stories they'd told weren't real. But from a dark corner another dwarf stepped forward. He carried himself tall, and gave off an air that made her think him the leader. And when he spoke, it was with such authority that she knew she was right.

"You think a night raid from Orcs funny?" He looked down at the two dwarves in the cave, a stare that seemed to cut into them. They looked down, looking ashamed, and one murmured

"It was just a joke."

"Of course. You know nothing of the world." The leader walked past the fire, towards the girl's hiding place in the trees. Whilst he hadn't seen her, she took several steps backwards in caution and kept her eyes on him. He stood and looked out at the land, his gaze sometimes flickering to the trees as he checked the shadows. Behind him, an older dwarf was talking to the others, telling some tale about an orc named Azog. But she didn't focus on the story, instead watched the leader. His face was blank and showed no emotion. But his eyes held a deep sadness, The blue grey eyes were clear in the light of the moon, even when he turned away. She couldn't help but to watch. But when he looked at the trees, that was different. She would see his eyes in full, and even though he couldn't see her she felt a cold. A cold like an icy hand around her heart, whether it was from the look in his eyes or the fear of being caught, she didn't know.

After what seemed an age, but could have been minutes, he turned away and moved back to the fire. And the girl could breathe again.

One by one, the dwarves fell asleep. And save for one on watch, she was alone. She was tired, but didn't want to sleep for fear of being found in the morning. But then if she didn't, there was no way she would be able to follow them tomorrow. She sighed under her breath, and decided to find somewhere to sleep, and hope she was hidden enough to last the night. After a minutes search, she found a good enough spot. It was a tree with large branches and roots that curled up from the earth. She was able to lie down amongst the roots fairly comfortably and they would shelter her from both vision and the weather.

And so, it was in that tree under the sky, that she fell asleep for the first time. Little did she know, it was the start of her adventure…


	2. Bargain

Bargain

When she woke in the morning, it was to the sound of talking and neighing and footsteps. For a few seconds, she wondered what it was, then she remembered the night before. She reached out her hands and grasped the rough tree root that arced up from the ground. She used it to pull herself up, and as she stood she felt her cloak fall down and brush the backs of her legs. She dusted herself down and combed her hair through with her fingers. The dark waves shone in the soft sunlight. She swept the long tresses behind her so they fell down her back, straightened her cloak and began to creep back toward the dwarves camp. It wasn't hard to find, it was near impossible for thirty or so dwarves and ponies to move silently. And the sounds masked her own, she was able to get closer with a lessened fear of being caught. When she looked through the trees at them, she was able to get a good look. Thirteen dwarves were there, each with their own style of beard and clothing, with an array of weapons.

She would track them, perhaps they would lead her to… somewhere, anywhere would do. All she needed was to find a village or town, she didn't know what she would do next, but it didn't matter much. As the day dragged on, she kept pace with them. It was quite easy, they moved quite slowly through the woods, slowed by the ponies laden with weapons and other things. She didn't have to hide much, she just made sure to stay concealed. When night fell, they slowed and finally stopped. The leader had been quiet up till now, but now he spoke to the others, but she was too far off to hear his words. Then he went to one of the younger dwarves and spoke directly to him. They nodded in some sort of agreement and the leader went off on his own, into the trees. She wondered what he was doing, but paid no more attention to it. Minutes went by, and she watched the other dwarves and the smaller fellow build a fire, sort the ponies out and begin to eat. She was aware of her own hunger, and she was thirsty as well. She'd seen a stream earlier, that had looked clean enough. And she was sure that she could find some nuts or berries if she looked hard enough. She had passed an oak tree earlier, she thought. Acorns would make a small meal. But then she might not find the group again… She nearly decided to stay until a rumble in her stomach reminded her of her hunger. She cast one last look at the dwarves, and then turned away to find some food.

And the turn brought her face to face with the leader, the dwarf from earlier. She saw his eyes first, dark shadows that flickered in the dim light. Then she saw the silver of a sword, and felt the cold metal pressing into her throat. She gasped, but didn't cry out. He spoke to her in a deep voice that was heavy with suspicion.

"Who are you?" She tried to speak, but the metal against her throat sent chills through her throat and words failed her. The dwarfs eyes narrowed and the metal of the sword pressed into her neck, stinging her. So he spoke again, "Step back, toward the fire. And if I see you reaching for a weapon then I'll kill you." That was too much, she exhaled in what seemed like a sob, and her throat was dry. She stood still for several long seconds, and then she began to take steps backwards. She nearly tripped over roots and walked into trees, but finally she was away from them and into a clearing. All the while the dwarf held the sword to her. She could hear the others talking normally, then silence, then a sense of confusion. She heard a voice from behind her,

"Thorin, what are you doing?" The leader, Thorin, spoke to them, but always kept her in his gaze, making sure she did nothing.

"Fili, that rope, tie it around her hands." She noticed the hesitation that followed, the moment of quiet,

"Are you sure?"

"She's been following us, I just caught her spying on us. If I tell you to do something, you do it." That made the other one quiet, and she heard footsteps coming closer, she fought fear rising inside of her, forcing herself to remain calm. Then she felt rough hands on her wrists, pulling them behind her and tying them together with a thin rope. The dwarf doing it seemed to murmur,

"Sorry." But she couldn't tell if it was just her imagination. He stepped back and Thorin lowered his sword, though kept it in his hand.

"Now, who are you?" She shook her head, unable to answer even the simplest of questions. After a minutes silence, he asked something else, "How long have you been following us?" At least she could answer that,

"Last night. Since last night." He acted as if that didn't surprise him, then said,

"Why?" She shook her head and a strand of hair fell across her face, but she didn't dare try to move it.

"Because when I woke there was no one else. You people were the closest to me. I wanted to find a village or town."

"When you woke?"

"Last night, I woke in the forest. Then I saw the fire, and you guys. That's all there is." He didn't trust her, she could tell, it was obvious, the way he looked at her, the way he stood, the way he spoke all pointed to that fact.

"You're trying to tell us you just woke up and saw us." It wasn't a question, and he continued before she replied, "Doesn't a girl like you have a family to find instead, and a home to go to?" She was silent for a second,

"That's the thing… I don't remember anything that happened before last night. I don't know where I am, or what I'm doing." He didn't seem to believe her, accusation remained and it was if he had something to keep a secret, something he didn't want her to know, something about where he and his party had been going.

"So you're a damned amnesiac, this gets more ridiculous every time you open your mouth." She tilted her head to the side,

"If I were truly a spy, wouldn't I try to come up with something more believable?" That point seemed to hit home, and his brow furrowed as he tried to work it out. Then he asked,

"What's your name?"

"I forgot _everything. _I don't know my name." He waited a long second before replying,

"Idria."

"What?"

"Idria, it's an old name. It means-"

"-Starlight." She cut in, finishing his sentence. Then she looked startled, as if she didn't know how she'd known what it meant. Thorin also looked confused,

"Starlight. And it's the name of a woman who once betrayed a king of Gondor, centuries ago." She, Idria, raised her eyebrows without meaning to,

" Good enough." She was silent for a second. Then she spoke again, "There's no point in a name if you're never going to use it."

"Why won't I use it?"

"You'll let me go, right? I've done nothing wrong. I promise I'll leave, I won't follow you anymore." He shook his head,

"A spy would say the same thing. You're not going anywhere." She sighed,

"But… what…?"

"You'll come with us. And if you ever betray us, then I'll cut your throat." She was quiet, this kind of debate confused her, and bargaining for her own life made it harder.

"I don't want to."

"Then I'll kill you now." The earth seemed to shake a little, and she felt her legs go out from under her. She landed heavily on her knees and the loss of her hands made her lean heavily to the side, her head slumped heavily forward and her hair fell across her shoulders and face. She shut her eyes and her muscles tightened in anger and defeat. She stayed like that for a long time, painfully aware of the dwarf and the sword looming over her. But finally, she relaxed her chest and spoke,

"Fine. I'll stay." Her head was still bowed, so she never saw the smirk on Thorin's face. She'd said it like she had a choice, but when it was between life or death, there was only one thing to choose. Then he stepped aside and sheathed his sword. The threat was silent, he was daring her to try and run. He saw her look from his face to the trees, judging how far she could run with her hands tied and if she could outrun them all. She stood and took a step, and he thought she was going to try. But she pivoted on her heels and walked toward the fire, then sat down heavily by the side of it. She muttered,

"Call me Idria then."


	3. Trolls

_/To avoid confusion, I'll say it now. This story is going to be based on the book The Hobbit rather than the films. The book is much better, and avoids going into silly details. Galadriel and Saruman weren't even in the book, yet they appear in the film. I don't mind it much, but I'm more familiar with the book. A few small elements from the films may appear, but nothing major. Also, Idria doesn't really mean Starlight in any language, and the story about a woman named Idria betraying the king of Gondor is false. I made them both up to give some meaning to her name. I hope that doesn't cause any confusion./_

Trolls

The group was nicer than she thought they'd be, despite their meeting. The fat dwarf Bombur was always making pleasant conversation, the two young dwarves Fili and Kili were happy and curious, Balin seemed wise, and Thorin was a good leader of the group. She found out what the other person was, his name was Bilbo, and he was a hobbit. She'd never heard of them before, but she soon grew to like him. He wished to go home, and would often talk about his hobbit hole, large meals, parties and never going on adventures or doing anything unexpected. He would talk to her a lot whilst they travelled, always about himself, as she had nothing to tell him.

She rode one of the ponies, with her hands tied in front of her, and the rope leading to the back of someone else's saddle. It wasn't needed, she wouldn't have tried to run away even if she was on a horse and they were unarmed. Travelling with the dwarves meant food and protection. Idria also met Gandalf, he had been travelling ahead of them for a while, but when he came back she was surprised. He was a wizard, clothed in long grey robes and carrying a tall staff. He argued with Thorin the first day he arrived about her captivity. He insisted that if he feared an unarmed girl, then it would be a long time before he completed his quest. Thorin cursed him afterward, but after a couple of hours he gave up. And the next day, the bonds around Idria's wrists were gone, though the unspoken threat of death was still there.

By night, the guard on her relaxed slightly. The dwarves no longer kept an eye on her, simply watched for real threats, orcs and wargs. She slept right by the fire, and stared into the orange flames when she couldn't sleep. She wondered what the dwarves were doing, she had heard them speak about some sort of mission, but they wouldn't tell her what it was. She sensed it must have been important, though couldn't begin to guess at how.

The days grew miserable, it began to rain constantly. She couldn't get dry no matter how close to the fire she got, and some nights a fire was impossible to make. But there were good things to it as well. The heavy smell of rain and earth was a refreshing one; it masked the smells of the ponies. But it grew cold, way too cold. So one night when they rode down the path, when she looked up to see an orange light, she mentioned it to the dwarf beside her,

"Hey, I think there's a fire over there." He looked up and stared at it for a second, and then announced it.

"Thorin! A fire." Thorin had barely spoken that day, instead leading them along the path as it twisted and turned. He was about to say something, but the other dwarves had begun to cut in, with their opinions. They wanted to get closer, but one or two of them were cautious about it, Thorin included.

"There's no one out here you need to worry about." One assured him. Idria disagreed, _It's thinking like that that gets you into trouble. _But she kept her opinion to herself, doubting they'd appreciate it. And eventually they decided to send the hobbit Bilbo first, to see who was at the fire, and whether they would likely share the warmth. So the hobbit went creeping off, and the rest of them waited. After a while, he still wasn't back. Idria got down from her pony and began to pace, glad to take a break and stretch her legs, but growing restless all the same. And noises were coming from the fire. Muffled shouts, faded voices, and she began to worry about Bilbo. But she wasn't the one to say anything about the lengthy absence of the hobbit. It was Balin who broke the silence,

"Do you think he's gotten into trouble?" The others looked over at him, and then at the glow of the fire,

"Someone should go and check."

"And split us up even more?" Another called out. And once again, they began to argue amongst themselves. Idria didn't join in, other than to catch herself nodding when Fili said they should go and help the hobbit out.

"Quiet, all of you!" Thorin's voice shouted, and their voices all died faster than a fire in the middle of a rainstorm. She noted that even though they may bicker, the dwarves were all respectful of their commander. They did as he told them, and never questioned him. _It's his voice. He leaves no space to be challenged. He's the leader and they all know it. _

And they all waited for him to speak, herself included.

"This bickering gets us nowhere. You should know better… Balin! Go and see what's happened to our burglar." Balin nodded and stepped away, not moving as quietly as the Hobbit, but he should have been okay. The rest of them stayed where they were, speaking to each other in whispers, or sheltering underneath the branches of a tree. So they heard everything, more exclamations from the unknown camp, and a muffled shout. And then it was quieter, and Balin didn't come back. So Thorin began to send the others to see what was happening. Fili and Kili went together, they were younger than the others and had better eyesight. They didn't come back. Thorin sent Dori and Nori and Ori next, saying that the three of them together would make it back. There was a long wait, and Idria went over to Thorin. He was staring off at the fire, as if trying to see through the trees to what lay beyond. She stood next to him and said softly, it was the first time she'd addressed him directly since the night he found her,

"We should all go together, before we get split up even more." He looked at her and shook his head,

"No."

He sent Oin, Gloin and Bifur next. And they didn't come back.

"Thorin. We all have to go."

"I told you, no."

So he sent Bofur and Bombur, and the only people left with the ponies were her and Thorin.

"You're a fool." She'd meant to sound calm, but her voice sounded of contempt.

"Be quiet."

"You're a leader, right?" Silence…

"Yes."

"Then lead!" She had been sat down, but Idria rose then. She walked to the side of one of the ponies, and opened one of the saddlebags. Her hand passed over a number of things, before she found what she was looking for. A knife, used for cutting their meat and such, but there were no other weapons other than what the dwarves already had. Her hand curled round it.

"Put that down, get away from there." She turned to him, and smirked. Then she turned and began to walk towards the light of the fire.

"I'm going over there. You better come too, just to make sure I don't conspire with those already there." She heard the sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath, and heard him follow her. She wasn't sure what drove her to it, maybe it was that she cared more for the Dwarves and the Hobbit than she knew. Or maybe she was looking for a fight. She stopped by the edge of the fire, and his hand came down heavy on her shoulder and pulled her back a step. But he said nothing, he saw the same as her. A large fire, more like a bonfire, spilled jugs which she guessed were filled with mead or ale, based on the smell. There were big haunches of mutton on the fire, and all around there were sacks. Sacks big enough to hold a dwarf.

"What's all this trouble? Who has been knocking my people about?" Thorin said loudly, and they waited for an answer.

"It's trolls! They're hiding in the bushes with sacks!" A voice cried out, Idria thought it was Bilbo's. The grip on her shoulder tightened and Thorin ran forward towards the fire, dragging her with him. At the same moment, the bushes lurched aside as the trolls burst from them, sacks in hand. They were tall, much taller than her. The knife she held felt rather pitiful now, but she stood her ground, and then quickly lost it as the three trolls charged.

"Move!" Thorin yelled at her, and she did. It wasn't much of a fight for her, she worked on dodging the blows of the trolls. Thankfully they were slower than she expected, but it was still difficult. Thorin had dropped his sword, and was by the fire. He had managed to pull free a branch that was burning at one end. One of the trolls kicked embers up into the dwarfs face, and he was rewarded with a smack in his own face with it.

_Crunch!_

The nose of the troll went sideways and one of his teeth went spiralling to the ground. He howled in pain, and Idria couldn't help herself. She laughed, the sound alien in the situation. It gave her a rush of confidence, and she ducked under another trolls arm and managed to stick him in the leg with her little knife. His yelp brought a grin to her face. For a moment she was cocky, and for a moment she was unprepared. Her legs were knocked out from underneath her and she landed hard. Then a rough hand grabbed her and the world went a little darker as the sack was shoved down over her head and tied at her feet. Then Idria was thrown down and left winded whilst the trolls began to argue.

They were trying to decide how to cook the dwarves, apparently they'd forgotten that she wasn't one of them. That didn't matter to her though, she was focused on trying to get out of the sack. Her legs and arms were unbound, but she had no weapon to cut through, not even the little knife. The sack was tied too tightly at the bottom for her to slip out, and she couldn't turn round to try and untie it somehow. She stretched out her limbs, hoping the seams would be weak and tear, but it didn't work.

Around her, the voices of the trolls rose as the argument escalated. Boiling them would take too much time, they had no water… There were enough of them to make a pie… They should sit on them and feast on the jelly left… Her stomach clenched and turned over, as the beginnings of fear began to take hold. The trolls had decided now, but there was another argument as they decided to kill Thorin first, but weren't sure which sack he was in. Desperately, she chose a part of the sack that looked a little threadbare, and pulled at it with both hands, hoping it would tear. It wasn't working, yet she didn't give up. And then she yelped as a hand closed around her legs and she was lifted up. She writhed in the grasp of the troll and kicked out. Her feet connected with something and she had the sensation of falling, before hitting the ground again. The troll shouted, but his voice was cut off by another, louder and more insistent.

"Dawn take you all! And be stone to you!"

It sounded like… Gandalf. She smiled despite everything, he was a wizard, he would surely be able to handle a few trolls and save them. She heard the voices of dwarves calling out for help, and then thanks. She felt a scrabbling at the strings of her sack and a moment later it was being pulled up over her head. She pulled it off and took a step back, to see that the one who freed her had been Thorin.

"Thank you." She said, trying not to sound shaken. But she didn't hear his response, as she looked up and saw the three stone trolls. Captured in their argument forever, or at least until time weathered away the stone and reduced the images to a pile of rubble. Idria smiled.

An hour later, they stood in the troll's cave, and looked around. A small fortune in gold and gems which the trolls had taken from their victims. There was also food, which the dwarves were taking, along with the ale that the trolls had stolen. There were even a few weapons, two swords stood out, they were of elvish make, and both Thorin and Gandalf claimed them. Idria walked over to the weapons and reached out a tentative hand towards them. Her hand closed around one large sword against the wall, and she began to lift it.

Suddenly, a grip like iron encircled her wrist and thrust the sword back against the wall with a clatter. She gasped and her head whipped round to see who it was, and the sharp blue eyes of Thorin looked into hers. There was a silence broken only by a sigh from someone. And then the dwarf in front of her released his grip.

"I only meant… That's a greatsword. It might be too heavy for you. You'd be better off with something like…" He turned and began to look at the other weapons, before his hand closed around a thinner sword and a swordbelt already attached. He pulled it from the sheath to expose a few inches of the blade, then sheathed it again and held it out to her. "Here." She took it, and met his gaze.

"Thank you." And then she tied it around her waist, the sword resting on her left hip. There was also a smaller sheath on the right side of the belt, which was empty. But after a few minutes she was able to find a dagger that fit into it. Now armed and content with what she had, she stood by the entrance to the cave and waited for the dwarves to finish.

And once they had, Gandalf told them of the next step in their journey. They were to visit Rivendell, the home of the elves.


	4. Rivendell

Rivendell

The pony she was on stumbled, not for the first time, down the white pebbled path that led the way down into the Valley the elves called home. They all went down in a single file line, Gandalf leading the way with Thorin close behind, she went seventh, behind Dwalin and ahead of Nori. The movement sent the unfamiliar feel of her sword swaying with every step the pony took. She hadn't even unsheathed it yet, and though it was a weapon, she had no idea how to use it. Maybe the dwarves could teach her, a few of them looked experienced in combat, and Gandalf was old enough to have seen a fight or two in his time. And if they were going to see the elves… even a few days with them to rest or train would be welcome. Idria was lost in her train of thought, so barely noticed her surroundings until she was right in front of them. She looked up and it took her breath away.

Large houses and halls carved from flowing stone arches over her, as well as balconies and twisting steps. There were great waterfalls that sparkled for a moment in the sun before falling into the valley below. Then she heard the laughing of the elves, and began to see them among the buildings. Their voices were soft, but they laughed often and called out greetings of all kinds to them, even calling out to Bilbo by name. They were all led into the great halls and the ponies were taken to the stables. They met the elf Elrond and were told they could stay as long as they wanted to. And so they did. It was quite peaceful in the Valley, Idria was given a room with a stone balcony that faced a waterfall, and she spent many hours staring into it, or at the courtyard below. The courtyard was used by the dwarves for training when they grew restless, and sometimes she saw elves joining in too, their blades mere extensions of their arms and fighting with a fluid grace she could only wish to match. She joined them all down there, and began to use her own sword. It was a hand-and-a-half sword that was made of a metal that was so bright it seemed white in the sun. She held it in her right hand to begin with, and then her and one of the dwarves would raise his own weapon to her and they would trade a series of blows.

But she was bad at it, her hand moved too slowly and if she managed to make the blade connect it would sometimes be sent spinning from her hand. The dwarves all tried teaching her differently in the hope that one way of fighting would work, but it didn't. It was only after several days of frustrating work that the problem was solved. A pair of elves had come to watch, and when they saw her fight and end up with her sword on the ground, they laughed. She snatched the sword up with a curse and threw herself back at the dwarf. Her frustration helped her last a few more hits, but then a blow jarred her arm and she let go again, and watched the sword spiral across the ground. The elves were laughing again and she shot them an angry look, before one of them sighed and came over to her.

"Would you like me to teach you the trick to it?" She said nothing, and the elf bent to pick up her sword and then held it out to her hilt first. She reached out to take it when he suddenly jolted forwards and she started. Her right foot stepped back and she snatched back her hand. The elf smiled, and then put the sword into her left hand. "As I thought, your left side is your dominant side." She lifted the sword and tried a practice swing, and the sword felt more comfortable already.

"Oh." Her cheeks flamed red and the elf grinned, and she noticed his own sword was sheathed on his right hip.

"It's happened to me before… Don't worry." She turned and adjusted her belt, so her sword sat on her right hip and the dagger on her left. Then she turned back to the dwarves and smiled,

"Ready." And for the rest of the day, the courtyard was filled with the noises of metal on metal and a girl's laugh.

The day before they were going to leave, there was a knock on her door. She opened it to see Thorin there, she gave him a small smile,

"Yes?" She'd hardly seen him over the course of their stay, and not spoken to him since the cave. She wondered what he wanted.

"Me and Gandalf are going to talk to Elrond about our quest. I think… it's okay for you to know about it now. And Elrond wants to talk to you as well, I don't know why." Her eyebrows raised, but she took a step and closed the door behind her.

"I'd hate to keep him waiting then… Where is he?" And so he led her through the halls, she recognised some of them, but she was soon led to unfamiliar parts of the building she hadn't visited. And as the two of them walked down the corridor, he spoke quietly to her.

"You were right, with the trolls. A leader should lead, but I stayed back and sent everyone else ahead. That was not… Kingly." She didn't turn and look at him, and for a moment Thorin believed she wouldn't reply, but she did,

"Kingly?" Then he remembered that she knew nothing of his quest, so of course she wouldn't know who he was. Idria was confused, a leader, yes, but a King? She didn't even know he was a King, hadn't even guessed.

"Ah. It will be explained soon." And they arrived at the door to Elrond's study, he opened the door and she followed him in, and she finally understood the nature of the quest.

"Kill a dragon?!" She was surprised. "A hoard of treasure… And you're the King Under The Mountain?" It was difficult to believe everything, but it all made sense now… She knew he wouldn't be lying, and all of his company agreed with it, Gandalf as well. So she accepted it, and stayed in silence as Elrond spoke to them. And then he asked to see the map. Thorin took it out and handed it to the elf, and she thought she noticed some sort of shimmer beside the drawing of the mountain. She leaned in for a closer look.

"…And there are moon runes here, below the normal runes that talk about the hidden door."

"What are those?" Idria could clearly see them now, and murmured what they read, "Stand by the grey stone when the Thrush knocks… And the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole…" She looked across at the others, Thorin looked confused but Elrond and Gandalf looked shocked.

"You can read those?" The elf asked her. Furrowing her brow, she looked back at the moon runes, and the message was still the same.

"Of course. Can't you?" Gandalf shook his head and Elrond explained,

"Very few people can, including me. How did you come to understand them?" She shook her head.

"I don't know… They just… make sense." They stared at her,

"Tell me of your past." And she tried, she really did, but she had very little past to share. Her world seemingly began the day she woke up in the forest. They listened quietly, and then Elrond said,

"Thorin, Gandalf, your swords." And they handed him the blades they had taken from the trolls. He drew Gandalf's first, and showed her the runes on the blade, "What does this say?" She stared at the runes for a moment, before saying hesitantly,

"Glamdring… Foe-hammer." His eyes were wide, and he showed her the similar runes on Thorin's blade.

"And these?"

"Orcrist… The goblin cleaver." She looked up, "Right?" He nodded.

"Right." He looked at her straight in the eyes.

"During your first days here Gandalf inquired to see if we knew you. We have no idea who you are or where you come from… But your understanding of languages is interesting. If you'd like, you can stay here with us… We may be able to help you understand." She was taken aback, and for a moment she almost agreed. She would have loved to stay in Rivendell with the elves. But looking back at Thorin and Gandalf she realised that she wanted to see what happened with their adventure so much. She smiled and bowed her head.

"I have something to do first. But when this quest is over, I may return for a while."

"You are always welcome here."

The next day she left with the group, with new supplies and new ponies, as their old ones were unsuitable for the mountain terrain. She turned back and watched Rivendell get smaller, and until it disappeared the same thought rolled around in her head,

_It's not too late to say yes, and go back._

But once it was out of sight and the mountains stretched out ahead of them, the thought was forgotten for a long time, and she was focused on the journey ahead.


	5. Goblins

Goblins

Letting out another sigh, Idria pulled her cloak tighter around herself. It was raining something fierce, and the wind whipping about sent the rain lashing in all directions which made it impossible to shelter beneath an overhang of rock. A boom of thunder rang out, accompanying a white flash of lightning that struck and disappeared almost before she noticed it. And the giants were out. Huge beings. And they seemed to love the storm, for they began to pull free chunks of rock from the mountains and throw them at each other. Kind of like children playing with snowballs, but a lot more dangerous. All of them were miserable, and had barely spoken other than to complain about the cold or the wet And finally, Thorin called a halt. She was at the back of the group so barely heard his words, but was able to comprehend what he meant. He wanted shelter, somewhere to get out of the way of the storm. So once he saw that Bilbo would be useless to send out looking for somewhere, he sent both his nephews, Fili and Kili. Then the rest of them waited, hunched over and barely moving.

It wasn't too long before the two dwarves returned.

"A cave! Big enough for all of us!" Idria didn't see how they could know that, they had returned so quickly that there was no way they explored a large cave thoroughly enough. But it was better than nothing, so they all went to see the cave for themselves. And once they were inside, Gandalf lit up his staff and explored. Luckily, the cave wasn't too big, and had no connecting tunnels to it, yet was big enough for them all to be reasonably comfortable. Oin and Gloin wanted to light a fire, so Idria went to sit by them, partially to learn how to light one properly and mostly so she would be close to it once it was lit. But Gandalf forbid it, so they had to lay out their clothes to dry on the rocks. Idria had a spare tunic and leggings from Rivendell, sewn with intricate patterns of leaves, but kept her boots on and wore her cloak still, even though it was still wet. For want of something to do, she joined the dwarves for a meal of hard bread and honey, and then sat by Balin and began to plait her hair into a single long braid as he told one of his stories. Afterward, she went back to her pile of luggage and clothes, fastened her swordbelt around her waist and lay down, using her arm as a pillow. And after a while, she slept…

A scream in the night woke her up, too late. She sat up and instinctively reached for her sword, but hands were on her. They pinched her and pulled at her, curled around her limbs and yanked her to her feet. She tried to lash out at her assailants but they held her too tightly, and there were too many of them. Suddenly there was a huge flash of light, as if lightning had struck inside the cave, and she saw what was happening. Goblins! Everyone had been seized, and they were all being dragged towards the back of the cave… towards a tunnel. She cried out and fought for freedom, but she was pushed inside and they were set to running. The goblins had whips now, and every few seconds a lash would connect with one of them. Luckily she only felt one, across her right shoulder and collarbone. It made her stumble and nearly fall, but the hands were on her again and she was pulled back up. Finally, they ran into a great hall and were made to stop. The goblins chained their hands behind them and jostled them forward towards the great Goblin. She felt a hand on her belt and watched as it was taken from her, along with her weapons. She panicked, what were these goblins going to do? The great goblin addressed Thorin and the dwarf made up a lie of passing through the mountains to visit family. She couldn't tell if they believed it or not. It didn't matter once the goblins found Thorin's sword. She remembered it had been crafted for the purpose of killing goblins, and so did they.

Shrieks filled the chamber and the goblin spat out orders, Imprison them! Shut them away! Let them never again see the sun or feel the grass or breathe fresh air! Lock them in a pit full of snakes! Kill them. Kill them. Kill them. The goblins ran toward them and she tried to prepare herself for a last stand. But she was only young and wished to live, and that desperation was contagious. Before she could move, there was another great flash of light.

_Gandalf! _

The goblins were still shrieking, and some covering their eyes, blinded temporarily by the light. Idria took advantage of that moment, and took a running leap at the Goblin that had taken her swordbelt. Her kick connected and sent it flying from his grasp. It was awkward trying to pick it up with her hands behind her, but she was able to grasp it so the hilt was in between her hands and the tip of the sword was wedged in her armpit. Then everything went dark, save for a sword shaped light that cut through the dark, as well as the great goblin.

"Everybody run!" The wizard shouted, and they did. They followed him down another tunnel, and then the chase began. She could keep pace with the dwarves well enough, but she knew that goblins were faster and they were angry. So all the while the sounds of the goblins grew louder and fiercer, before Gandalf had to turn and commanded them to fight, make a stand. His staff connected with their chains one by one, and they fell loose. Once Idria's were gone, she wasted no time buckling her belt around her waist and drawing her sword. Gandalf had his sword and had managed to take Thorin's as well, but they were the only three with weapons. She found the knife on her left hip and handed it to the nearest dwarf, which was Fili. He took it with a word of thanks that was lost in the screams of the Goblins. There was only a short fight afterward, Idria slashed at the goblins but it was the sight of Glamdring and Orcrist that sent the hoard running. There was no time for a rest though, no doubt the goblins would gain in confidence when there was more of them. So they ran again, Gandalf seemed to know his way around or at least to somewhere. So they all followed the light that glowed faintly from his staff. Despite the speed they ran at, the next attack was too soon for her liking.

Goblins had approached in the silence, and suddenly grabbed the dwarves at the back. She saw them go down and one of them had been carrying Bilbo, so he sent him crashing to the ground. She ran back a few steps to help the dwarves but soon fell only to helping herself. Her sword cut a path of silver through the gloom and she saw it strike a head off of the shoulders of one goblin. Dark blood patterned her clothes but she barely noticed. And then, towards the rear of the goblins, one drew a crude bow and aimed it at them, at Thorin. Then he let go of the string and sent it flying towards the dwarf.

"No!" The word burst from her lips, and instinctively she reached out her right hand into the path of the arrow. The barbed head sank into the flesh of her palm and protruded an inch from the skin on the back of her hand. She cried out and wrenched her hand back, as if it were on fire. Thorin looked at her with wide eyes, and she wondered if he comprehended what she'd done. The wound seemed to pulse, blood running from it to drop to the floor. She screamed and felt a heavy hand on her cloak as she was wrenched back. The shapes melded together.

"Run!" A voice shouted, and repeated over and over. "Run! Run! RUN!" And she did. Following the light once more, everything else blurred through hot tears. And then the light was all around her, making her eyes smart and head ache. Her feet were on something soft… she looked down and saw green. Her braid was whipped back by the wind on her face and she gasped. They'd made it out, somehow they'd gotten out. Despite the pain in her hand, a grin flickered on her face, and grew stronger as they got further away from the mountains. And when they stopped she leaned against a tree and let the sunlight wash over her face. But a pang brought her out of her daze, and a voice.

"-ia. You're hurt." She looked across at the voice, it was Balin. She looked at her hand and winced.

"What do I do?" Her voice was faint, she only just noticed how parched she was.

"It needs to be cleaned, the arrow removed… and bandaged." Luckily there was a stream close by, Balin wet a cloth torn from his cape and started to clean around the wound. And then he sighed. "Fili, Kili, get over here." And when the two of them came near he said,

"I'm going to draw out the arrow, hold her arm still please." And then hands were on her, two on her shoulders drawing her back against someone's chest, and one on her elbow, and another grasping her wrist, straightening her arm. There was a jolt as Balin snapped the arrow shaft on both ends, and then began to pull the remainder from her hand. Her arm seized and she screamed as pain lanced up her arm, but it receded slightly once the arrow was gone. She sat up weakly and said,

"I'm okay now… you can let go." The pressure on her arm disappeared and she was able to stand.

"It still needs to be bandaged." She nodded and reached for the bottom of her tunic, a part that looked pretty clean to her.

"Got it."

"Wait." Someone said, and from the commanding tones she guessed it was Thorin. He stood in front of her and tore off part of his own tunic. He shrugged, "You got hurt defending me, it's only right that I help you now." And he took her hand and began to wind the fabric around the wound. The first layer was discoloured with blood, but then the wrappings stayed the same blue colour as his clothes. She smiled as he tied it off, and dropped her hand to her side.

"Thank you, Thorin." He nodded, then turned his head.

"Someone go keep watch." Then he took a few steps through the trees, and another voice called out,

"Hey, where's Bilbo?"


	6. Eagles

Eagles

Thankfully the hobbit came back after a short while. He'd been knocked out when the goblins attacked but hadn't been seen. He'd met some creature named Gollum, and found the way out. He'd even managed to dodge a hoard of goblins and get outside, though he had gotten trapped in the door, meaning all the buttons had been torn from his waistcoat. She was happy to see him, she quite liked the little fellow and had been one of the ones who said they should go back and try to find out what happened to him. There had been no need for it of course, but she would have done it. The celebrations were short lived though, the Goblins could pursue them through the night and were likely very angry. Running through the trees, each of them stayed silent, conserving their breath for the journey. It was well into the night, with a bright moon shining down that they stopped. She leant over and coughed. Her hand had been throbbing ever since the run, but it faded to a constant ache once they had stopped. She couldn't make a fist with her right hand now, and her little finger wouldn't bend.

_It's a good job I'm not right-handed. _

Her stomach rumbled and she looked around, they were stood in a clearing. Were they going to camp here or keep going? She scratched lightly at her bandage for want of something to do. Hunger gnawed at her, and she knew it must have been at least two days since she last ate. But they had no food, the goblins had taken it all. It seemed like the others were thinking the same, but when they were about to voice it a sound cut through the air.

_Aaaaaaooooooooooohhhhhhhh… _

The hair on her neck stood up and she shivered. It was the howl of a wolf, the only sound that she ever heard that cut through everything, to turn her insides to ice water and twist her stomach. Another howl sounded out, closer now. She looked around, she thought she could see shapes in the gloom, but then they would disappear and appear somewhere else.

"The trees! Climb a tree!" Someone shouted, and she scrambled to do that, the panic settling in. She ran towards the closest one, a slender fir tree, and threw her arms upward to grab a branch. Her hand strained and though she didn't know it at the moment, the wound tore again and started to bleed. Scraping her feet against the bark of the tree, she pushed herself upwards and began to move from branch to branch. Teeth snapped below her and she heard growls and howls of wolves. She didn't dare look down until she was as high up as she could get. Branches hid some of what was on the ground, but she saw the mass of grey bodies and the stench of rotting meant that clung to the animals. She threw her arms around the trunk of the tree and straddled the branch, trying to find a comfortable way to sit. Below her, two other dwarves sat in the same tree as her, Dwalin and Ori. They were heavier and could not climb as high as her though, so she was sat on the branch alone. The wolves soon began to grow suspicious, and they began to speak in their own language. And even though she heard guttural snarls and twisted yelps, they made sense in her head and she found she understood them…

They spoke of terrible things, murder and plots with the goblins. They believed the dwarves were spying on them, and the wolves were there anyway to meet with the goblins that night. So they wouldn't be let down, and the way the wolves spoke she guessed they wouldn't be let down even then. They could be killed. Her fingers tightened on the tree, they could be killed! The dwarves didn't fully understand yet, but she didn't have to tell them. Gandalf had managed to climb high into a tree, and suddenly he was throwing down bright objects, tiny balls of fire. They struck the wolves below and set their pelts on fire. The animals were sent running for water, and for a moment it looked like they might all scatter. The undergrowth had caught alight now, so the fire was all around the creatures. They howled, and their cry was answered with shrieks. The shrieks of goblins.

_No, no, no…_

They were incredibly confused for a moment, but once they understood what was happening they had a sick idea. They managed to beat out most of the flames, but not the ones nearest to the trees. So the fire was guided by the goblins, towards the trees Idria and everyone else were sheltered in. And very soon the orange flames reached them and a wave of heat fanned them. She gasped as the flames grew and the dwarves began to try and climb higher, making the more slender branches creak and threatening to send them all crashing down. Grasping onto the branches, she tried to go higher, but it didn't work, they were too small to support her weight. One snapped under her foot, and she reeled backwards. Her grip on the tree loosened, and her right hand seized up and let go, and then her other hand was off and she was falling. She yelled, but no-one heard her over the howls of wolves and roar of flames. Then she lurched, and the ground below her grew smaller, she was in the air. Something had a hold of her shoulders. She looked up to see a winged shadow… it looked kind of like a bird. But it was way too big. It turned and the light of the fire lit it up. It was an eagle, and it wasn't alone. There were more, and each one had grabbed one of her companions. Gasping, she instinctively struggled, but realized it was pointless as she would plummet to her death should she get free now.

But the eagles were friendly enough, if a little stiff. When they landed they were taken to the leader of the eagles, he and Gandalf seemed to know each other a little. They were finally told that they would be taken further east in the morning, but the eagles refused to go to close to the mountain for fear of the dragon and risk of men attacking them. So the dwarves settled down atop the rocks that made the eagles' home. They were brought food, rabbits and a sheep, so that night Idria went to sleep with a stomach filled with hot food, and slept with a smile on her face.

The next day they didn't rise until later than usual, but after a quick meal of cold rabbit they were flown down from the rocks and set down several more miles east, hopefully far enough away from the goblins and wolves.

"He is a skinchanger, under no enchantment but his own." Gandalf said. Idria hadn't been listening much, she had been looking at the flowers that grew and just enjoying the sun. But curiosity took her and she listened to the wizard. He knew of somewhere to go, where they might take shelter and be out of their current predicament. The others balked a little when they heard about the skin-changing part. But they realised that they had no better plans, so decided to go along with Gandalf. After all, he had already saved them all from trolls and goblins. As they walked, the fields rolling in front of them seemed to bloom before their eyes. Bright flowers poked up from the grass, some of them she couldn't even name. And there was clover, a lot of clover. A thick sweet smell cloyed in the air, yet it was comforting. And the bees! They were huge, as big as her fist, golden and jet black stripes along their bodies. They all stopped, and she took off her boots and felt the thick grass beneath her feet.

"Beorn does not like company, and he may turn us away. So pair up and start walking down the path every five minutes, start when I whistle." He pointed at Bilbo and Thorin,

"Us three will go first. Remember, every five minutes." And so they waited there in the field. The dwarves began to follow as time went by, she made no move to go with them and decided to be amongst the last that presented themselves to Beorn. Sitting in the grass, she began to twine it around her finger when a jolt in her right hand made her stop. It had begun to bleed again when she had climbed the tree, and now the edges of the blue fabric were brown with dried blood. She pulled the bandage gently, the blood had made it stiff and it was stuck to the wound. But she unwrapped it bit by bit and exposed the hole to fresh air. It didn't look too good, a cracked scab and different shades of red where some blood was thicker or fresher than other parts. The skin on the back of her hand was similar, but it was yellowish around the edges of the hole, and there was a faint odour coming from it. She tried to clench her hand again, but the stiff little finger would not bend and all it achieved was a fresh wave of blood. She tied it loosely again, and decided she would sort it out properly once she got to Beorn's. It was her turn now, no-one was left there other than her and Bombur. So together they walked up the path and found the rest of the company sat on the porch, clustered around a tall man, with thick hair across his body.

He showed little interest in them, waving them down when they drew near and bid Gandalf continue with his tale. She was happy to sit there and listen as he told their tale, it sounded more like an epic adventure rather than just a struggle from the way Gandalf told it. And when he'd finished, Beorn laughed.

"You may be making it all up, but a tale like that deserves a reward!" And then he let them into his house, a large hall made of wood. There was a low table but only three chairs which Beorn, Thorin and Gandalf took. The rest of them sat on smooth wooden logs that had been rolled in by the trained animals that Beorn looked after. Then the table was laid with food, no meat, but a lot of bread and cream and honey. There were large flagons of milk and ale, and once she reached for one with both hands, she noticed the scarlet rag around her hand again. It stung as it moved, and she pulled back her hand. Beorn had seen it, and came over to her.

"Your hand is hurt." She looked up at him,

"I took an arrow through it earlier, I just need to clean it." He took her shoulders and gently pulled her up from her seat,

"It smells infected, do it now." And he led her to a corner of the room, where there was a basin of water lying there. He unwrapped her hand and put the rag aside. Then watched as she washed the wound. The water turned a scummy brown, but finally her hand seemed clean. He took a bottle of clear liquid but she recognised the scent once he uncorked it, vinegar. He held her hand by the wrist and poured a thin stream of vinegar over it. Her arm pulled away instinctively but was held there by the tall man as fire lanced up her arm. She gasped, but thankfully the vinegar ran out and Beorn began to wrap her hand up with white bandages. Luckily, the virgin cloth wasn't stained with her blood right away. She nodded her head and thanked him, then went back to her seat and joined the feast. The dwarves spirits were higher than they had been for a while, they soon began to grow merry and sing. And later, when she sat in a corner wrapped in her cloak, she fell asleep to the songs of ages past.


	7. Mirkwood

_**/ I'm aware I'm rushing the story a lot, but I plan to focus more on events after Lake-Town, such as entering the mountain, planning for the defence and the battle of five armies, as well as what comes afterwards. Idria will get more character development in the future, starting in this chapter or the next./**_

Mirkwood

Two days later, they left Beorns house with supplies that could last them for a while, mounted on ponies that had been lent to them. They travelled north and east, along the edges of the forest first, so they could use a path that went through Mirkwood and come out closer to their destination. The trees were tall and dense, Idria could barely see more than a few metres into the forest, and felt relieved there was a path they could use. It took a few days for them to reach the path, and by the nights she thought she could see a large black shape following them . Bilbo saw the same, and his eyes were better than hers, he thought it looked like a huge bear.

"Do you think it could be Beorn?" she whispered one night,

"Perhaps, it's too large to be a normal creature." The other dwarves hadn't noticed it though, and it never drew too close so Idria relaxed and paid more attention to the forest to the east. The trees looked old, like they had been there for hundreds of years and would continue to stand for hundreds of years more. She had a feeling that the forest experienced time much more slowly than the rest of the land. That time only touched it in whispers, rather than the flow of continuity that surrounded the rest of them. The riding wasn't too hard, and thankfully at last, her hand healed. Well, healed was one word for it. Because she had used it so much since the injury, the hole hadn't healed over, just the edges of it had mended properly. It left her with a hole in the middle of her right hand she could fit her little finger through. And the arrow must have destroyed bones or nerves in her hand. Her thumb was fine, but her index finger and little finger trembled and moved stiffly where once movement would have been fluid. And her middle finger and ring finger refused to move, and she couldn't feel much with them for the rest of her days.

When they reached the entrance to the forest, Gandalf made them let the ponies go. Beorn would not let them take them into the forest, for he believed it cursed. And he pointed out that the skinchanger had followed them, although they may not have noticed it. So they removed their supplies and shared them out as equally as they could, Idria shouldered a heavy pack, though she feared soon it would get too light. As they were about to set off, Gandalf bid them goodbye, saying he had other business to take care of. Idria was disappointed and wished he could have stayed, he had gotten them out of a few jams already, but he refused. He did tell them he would meet them later, on the other side of the forest. And then he left, and the company entered the forest to the shouts of his final warning.

"STAY ON THE PATH."

It was almost impossible to tell day from night it the forest, and he dwarves and Bilbo soon came to hate it. But Idria was of another opinion. She liked it there, the closeness of the trees and the cool air the others found stifling was a welcome break. Her eyes became more adjusted to the gloom as the days passed, and she saw more than the others. Every now and then a flower or a cluster of them would grow on the edges of the path, each a different shade of whatever colour the flower grew. And there were squirrels in the forest, black things with wiry hair. The dwarves had been gifted with bows and arrows by Beorn, so when one of them managed to bring down a squirrel, (She thought it had been Bofur) they cooked it. The taste was strange, and the others refused to eat it, but she was okay with it. It was tough and gamey, but the few mouthfuls on it were strangely filling. And as she walked through the forest, she was able to see the food within the forest. A few premature acorns grew on some trees, they were bitter but edible, though the dwarves refused to eat them. She even managed to spot and pick blackberries, causing the company to stop for a few minutes to strip the small bush of berries before walking on. The food they found was never enough for all of them, but she felt that if she was travelling alone then she would be fine.

All too soon, the packs they carried grew lighter and flattened as the stores inside diminished. Idria remained the best fed out of all of them, Gloin said she had the stomach of a scavenger; she would eat anything edible regardless of the taste. But water was difficult to find. They couldn't carry a lot of it since it grew heavy, but there were no streams by the path, save for one. When they reached it, only Beorn's warning stopped them from drinking from it. It was harder to tell in the dark, but the water flowed black with enchantments. Whoever drank from it or swam in it would fall into a deep sleep, and would not be roused by anything. They crossed thanks to a boat that lay unused on the banks, though a bridge would have served them better. Idria was amongst the first to cross the river, and did as Thorin commanded when he told her to draw her sword and keep watch. The blade had been sharpened when she was at Beorn's, the glittering edge sharp enough to shave with. Something moved in the shadows, coming closer,

"Something's coming!" she shouted, and lifted the blade a little higher, wishing she had a shield too. From the trees, a huge stag leapt out. It was bigger than a horse, a huge pair of antlers surrounding its head like some sort of surreal crown. It seemed not to notice the company, running right towards them and cleared the river with a single leap. And when it landed, it made Bombur start, and he slipped and fell into the black water. Reacting quickly, a rope was thrown in after him and his hand circled it. But by the time they pulled him out, he was fast asleep, snoring loudly and grasping the rope so tightly they could not get it from his grasp. They could not rouse him, so they had to carry him too. It was good that their packs were light, but they wished Bombur would wake soon. Days passed, and the enchantment showed no signs of wearing off. And the food finally ran out then, even with Idria finding acorns or nuts, they were not grown or plentiful enough to provide enough sustenance. They abandoned the empty packs, carrying only what was necessary through the forest. The only shred of comfort was Bombur's awakening, he lifted himself up suddenly and looked around.

"Whe- Where am I?" he asked, confused. And they found out he could recall nothing of their adventure to the mountain, not the trolls or goblins, wolves or eagles, not even the party they had at Bilbo's home the day before they left. It was disheartening, coupled with the fact that the forest seemed endless and they were travelling on empty stomachs. That night, they saw a fire somewhere off the path, seemingly not too far away. They debated for a while about what to do. Most said yes, with the thought of begging food from whoever lit the fire, but Idria said no.

"It reminds me too much of what happened with the trolls. And we don't have a wizard to help us this time."

"That's easy for you to say, you're the best fed out of all of us. You don't need to go and beg if you don't want to." Her brow furrowed, and she turned her head,

"Go then, I'm not coming to get you if something bad happens." Some of the dwarves opened their mouths to retort but Thorin cut in,

"Enough!" And they fell silent as he looked at them one by one. He looked into her eyes for a moment, and she knew he was weighing up the options. He wasn't so desperate that he had thrown away caution, but he was too hungry to pass up an opportunity. "We will all go to the edge together, and then our burglar will talk to them. They won't be afraid or threatened by him, I hope." And none of them had a better idea, so they had to agree. So they all approached the fire, and when they reached it they pushed Bilbo forward with a yelp. A second later, complete darkness fell and they all felt very lost. They stumbled around calling each other's names in the darkness, and it took an awfully long time to find each other again. In the blackness, they all held on to each other so they would not get split up. And finally, all fourteen of them, seemingly unharmed, were there. Bilbo spoke of seeing elves, elves feasting on the richest of foods and drinking red wine. He spoke of their King being there, and of music and dancing and warmth. It sounded to entrancing, that when soon afterward another light appeared, they moved as one towards it to try and get in again. Thorin stepped in first, and they followed a second later. They caught a brief glimpse of the feast Bilbo had been talking about, but it was plunged into darkness a moment later. The grip on her hands loosened and she became separated from the dwarves. She called out for them, over and over, but their own cries seemed to get further away. Finally, she could not hear them at all.

"THORIN! BILBO! BALIN, ANYONE!?" She bellowed out, in a voice loud enough to wake a dragon, but she heard no reply. Bumping into a tree in the darkness, she put out her hands to steady herself and brushed against something strange… it was sticky and fibrous, and when she reached out her other hand to pull it off, that got stuck too. She pulled back and cursed, both of her hands were encased in the stuff. And then she heard the sound, a strange scuttling noise, and a sharp whisper.

"A human! We haven't feassssted on one of thossse for a while." She gasped as a large black shape dropped down in front of her and drew closer.

"Stay back!" She screamed, trying to free her hand to reach for her sword, but she was stuck. A moment later, the black shape darted behind her and she felt a sharp jab in her side, just above her right hip. She began to feel weak, her knees buckled and she fell. The gloom of the forest began to darken and she saw something that looked like a spider draw close… but it was far too big… for… that…

She opened her mouth in a silent scream, but her eyes closed and she fell unconscious as the creature wrapped her up with its web and dragged her away.


	8. Trapped

Trapped

Idria woke with her lungs burning and gasping for air. She breathed in but it was like trying to breathe through a wet cloth. Something thick covered her face but when she tried to reach up and remove it her arms wouldn't move. She realised that her vision was dark, and her limbs and body felt weak. Remembering the spider, she jerked and whimpered, but her body was constricted. There was no way to tell where she was, though she felt like she was hanging with her feet pointed toward the ground. Her hearing was muffled, but she could hear faded scuttling and feel tremors in the web as the spider moved. But the tremors were coming from all around…

_Is there more than one of them?! _

She started again, still not fully in control of her body as the poison of the spider ran its course. The spiders talked amongst themselves, she couldn't hear their exact words but knew what they were talking about. Food…

The only comfort she had was the hilt of her sword pressing into her right hip. She couldn't reach it, although she tried to for a while. She thought her hand had moved an inch closer, but it was hard to tell, it could have just been a trick of the venom. But she only needed half a chance to get it… just a small opening. And she hung there for a while, trying to devise a number of different ways of escape, but most involved luck and a chance she wasn't likely to get. Then there was a shouting nearby, a tone different to the rasps of the insects. The more hearty tones… of a hobbit. She would have grinned if her face wasn't held so tightly. Bilbo was rather lucky, she guessed, maybe he hadn't been caught. And the other dwarves could be with him. She didn't think they'd leave her, even if they didn't trust her completely. So when the vibrations of the spiders ceased, she noted the clumsier footing of something on two legs. Then there was a faint ripping sound, and a little light took over. She looked up to see Bilbo's face above her.

"Quiet." He whispered, "They could come back soon." Nodding to show she understood, he continued to cut her free, and after a minute she was balanced on a branch alongside him, some twenty feet above the ground. She drew her sword and made her way along, helping the Hobbit cut the dwarves free. They had all been imprisoned side by side, it seemed only the Hobbit had escaped the spiders. Her dagger was no longer in her belt, so she had to use her sword carefully and hope she didn't hurt the dwarves. It took longer than it should have, she and the others were weak from the venom. And when they cut the last person free, the spiders began to come back. They expressed rage with splutters and fierce curses. Her sword was still in her hand, but she cried out to the others,

"Get down from the trees! We'll be caught up here!" And she began to climb down. But with a sword in one hand and the other hand nearly crippled, it was difficult and she slipped down the trunk of the tree, rough bark tearing her clothes and the flesh of her knees and forearms. She staggered back and looked at the blood from the scrapes. Then she grasped her sword hilt as well as she could with both hands and led an attack. They were poorly armed, most had only clubs with a knife here or there, her and Bilbo were the only ones with swords. He cried out,

"You run that way! I'll do the stinging." And he did, slashing at the spiders as they got closer and running this way and that. She stumbled along, exhausted, starving and weak, but with a fresh desire to live. When the spiders grew too close again Bilbo yelled at them, repeating similar lines over and over again,

"I am going to disappear now, but you all run in that direction, quick. I'm going to disappear and draw them off."

Idria was confused, but the Hobbit vanished before her eyes and she found her feet leading her away. The rest of them ran together for a long while, but they were soon stopped due to fatigue. They collapsed together and sat, trying to get their strength back. The spiders had been lost, but an eerie silence filled the air, too quiet for her liking. She stood and turned to peer out between two trees, and faced an arrow pointed at her neck. Stepping back, she saw them. Elves, and a lot of them. Too many of them to fight.

"Drop your weapons." One announced. She stared at him for a while, knowing the dwarves were doing the same. But there was nothing to do, to fight would be suicide, so she sighed and let her sword fall from her grasp to hit the leaves below. The elves retrieved it, and then took her arms and bound them behind her back, doing the same to the dwarves as they surrendered. They were taken away, not ungently, blindfolded, and taken towards the Castle of the Elf King of Mirkwood. But just before they blindfolded her, she noticed that Biblo wasn't with them… Neither was Thorin.

Once inside, their blindfolds were removed and she was left squinting her eyes at the brightness of the cave. Before her, on a throne of carved wood, sat a tall elf with white hair and a crown of leaves and berries. He watched them for a moment, before asking them questions about themselves. The dwarves were quite surly, refusing to answer anything properly and she noted how they revealed nothing of their quest. She decided to do the same if she was asked anything, but remained silent the rest of the while. Finally, the King turned to another elf and spoke, the language he spoke changed to the flowing words of elvish, but she found she could understand it perfectly.

"_I do not trust them. Take them to the prisons, a separate cell each. Tell them nothing of the other dwarf here, they could be in league." _Her eyes widened and she spoke without meaning to,

"Other dwarf?! Is he here?" The elf turned his head sharply and fixed her in his gaze,

"Leave her here, take the others." And suddenly there were hands among them, pulling them apart and away, until she stood alone in the hall with the King and his council. He beckoned her closer and hesitantly, she walked towards him. Each step she took echoed around the hall, emphasising the quiet of the place. When she was several feet away from him she sopped, unwilling to get any closer. He spoke first, in elvish.

"_How is it that you know this tongue? You cannot be more than one and twenty." _Shaking her head, she sighed, replying in the common tongue,

"I just do. The words make sense inside my head… though I do not know the words to reply. It happens with other languages too, dwarvish and the tongue of wolves." His head tilted, he responded in her own tongue.

"And what is your name?"

"Idria."

"A human girl, with a dwarvish name, who understands elvish." She nodded, not sure if she should say anything, he continued, "How did you come to be travelling with them?" She was silent for a long while,

"We met on the road. I was alone, and they let me accompany them."

"Where were you going? Why go through Mirkwood?" She shook her head, she couldn't tell him.  
"You mentioned another dwarf, who did you mean?"

"I will not give answers unless I receive some." She sighed and did not respond, instead her eyes darted around as she looked for something… a weakness, an exit, some way out. "I was going to keep them trapped for another hundred years, that will weaken their resolves. But a hundred years in a prison will kill you."

"It's a shame I'm mortal." He laughed, though it felt dangerous. He stood and walked up to her, then reached down and pulled web from her hair, shaking it off his fingers and watched it drift to the floor.

"That could be helped, you know. I don't believe you are a member of their party, but you know what they are doing. Tell me, and you'll be free. You could stay here if you liked, I could work enchantments to make you live as long as any elf…" Her brow furrowed,

"Why would you do that?"

"You have a gift. You can understand the main languages of the races, that would prove… useful." She stepped back and looked up at him. His tongue was practiced, his words were inviting, but his eyes were cold and made her shiver. "Just tell me what you know about these dwarves." She shook her head once more and hair fell over her eye, though she couldn't reach up to move it back.

"I can't." If his eyes were cold before, now they were venomous.

"_Put her in the same cell as the first dwarf, maybe he will be more helpful as he sees her age and die because of him. Don't let them out until they cooperate, even if they die in there." _And then hands were on her, pulling her back and deeper into the cave. She tried to keep track of the directions they took, but they soon tangled in her mind and she lost herself. Eventually, she was led to a sturdy wood and iron door, it was opened and she was shoved inside quickly. Then the door was barred behind her and by the time she turned back to it the elves guarding it had retreated, and left her there.

"_Put her in the same cell as the first dwarf…" _echoed in her head,

"Thorin? Is that you?" She asked as she turned to look at the cell. He stood at the other end of the room, but drew closer, into the light and grasped her shoulders.

"Idria! What has happened?"

Despite the urgency of the moment, she noticed that it was the first time he'd called her by her new name.

_**/There we go, we're now halfway there. Thanks for sticking with me this far! Leave a review, tell me what you think so far... **_

_**Thanks. ^^**_


	9. Escape

Escape

As she spoke, he removed the bonds from her wrists. When she was free, she rubbed her wrists and continued with the story, he listened without interrupting. She finished by telling him of the Elf King's offer and her refusal. When she'd finished, he told her what had happened to him. The second time that they had entered the clearing and it had all gone dark, Thorin had been taken prisoner by the elves and brought there. He knew nothing of the spiders; he hadn't been one of their prisoners. But he didn't doubt it was true, Idria's clothes and hair still had a covering of web in some places. She sat on the single bed in the cell and looked around. There wasn't much, a single bed, a few blankets here and there, an old wooden stool and low table, and a fireplace. She stared at the fireplace for a long while, wondering if there was a way up once the fire was out, the smoke had to go somewhere. Thorin saw her looking and shook his head.

"I already tried. There isn't enough space for anyone larger than a child, and there are metal grates anyway, too small for anything larger than a weasel to pass through." She sighed,

"We have a lot of time to work on getting a way out." It made him smile without humour, and she busied herself trying to remove the web from her hair and clothes. He did a circuit of the room, stopping every now and then to tap the wall, examining it for a weakness. He spoke as he moved,

"I promise, for your sake, that we'll get out of here soon. You saved my life from that arrow, so I can save yours this way." She shook her head, even though he couldn't see it.

"Your quest comes first. If you tell the elves about it, they'll find some way to claim a portion of the gold."

"Not if we get there first. We have relatives in the Iron Hills, we could raise an army and defend the mountain if we had to."

"Maybe that would work, if there were no other possibilities." He finished the circuit of the cell and sat beside her,

"Of course."

A few days later, Idria sat at the head of the bed, leaning against the stone wall staring at the ceiling. Thorin sat at the end of the bed, facing away from her, and they spoke in lowered tones. She asked him,

"What's the mountain like?"

"Why do you ask?" She closed her eyes,

"You and the others speak about the place with such conviction… It's your home, I want to know what that feels like." He did not speak for a moment, and then his voice sounded out and told her,

"It was beautiful, there were seams of gold within the mountain that flowed downwards like rivers, all we had to do was follow them. Our smiths were skilled and we barely needed to forge items of war, instead creating jewellery or ornaments for our homes. Even the poorest among us had spare gold and a place to call home." She smiled

"Not were, are. You may not be there, but it still remains, I suppose. Those riches are yours by right, as they always have been." When he didn't answer she said, "What about outside of the mountain? What was that like?" She stared into the fire as he answered,

"There was a forest of pine trees, very little of the land was our farmland, for we traded our work for food so did not need to grow it ourselves. There was also a town nearby, Dale, our merchants would visit that place with the best made toys you'd ever seen. Everyone prospered." She noticed that the fire was beginning to die, but they had no wood left to sustain it. She watched it fail as Thorin told her of the last days in the mountain, "It was all destroyed when the dragon came. His fire consumed the trees first, until a sea of orange flame encircled the town. Then he destroyed the town and broke through the main gate." Idria didn't want to know about the destruction, he sounded saddened and she didn't want to hear it, but now it seemed he had to finish, "I was not there that day. I had left adventuring, but I saw it. I saw the beast slaughter my people." He fell silent, and the fire gave one last pop before the flame disappeared, leaving a red glow among the black coals.

"Perhaps one day you could restore it all." She said, trying to give some comfort,

"Perhaps." Was all he responded with.

More days dragged by and they spoke a little more, but she could sense the hope he may have kindled in his heart die out. The days lasted an eternity, and the cell seemed to grow smaller every day. Idria wasn't sleeping well, dozing off for an hour or two before snapping awake in a cold sweat. One day the two of them sat on the floor, back to back, each supporting the other's weight.

"The King beneath the mountains,

The King of carven stone,

The lord of silver fountains

Shall come into his own,

His crown shall be upholden,

His harp shall be restrung,

His halls shall echo golden

To songs of yore re-sung.

The woods shall wave on mountains

And grass beneath the sun;

His wealth shall flow in fountains

And the rivers golden run.

The streams shall run in gladness,

The lakes shall shine and burn,

And sorrow fail and sadness

At the Mountain-king's return."

Thorin spoke it in a mournful tune, though the poem sounded hopeful.

"What does that mean?" Idria asked.

"The poem that promises what happens when I take back my crown. They believe that the riches flowing from the mountain will colour the Long Lake yellow."

"And will they?" Her back against his, she could feel each breath he took and the steady thump of his heart,

"If they aid us in our quest, they will be rewarded." She considered it for a while, wondering who he meant by 'they' The elves? Anyone they might meet on the way? Then a different thought occurred to her, less important, but she wanted to know,

"What about, 'His harp shall be restrung'? Do you play the harp?"

"I do." She grinned weakly, wondering if that was just a coincidence or if he learned it specifically to fit in with the poem. She didn't ask, feeling the answer would ruin her speculations,

"I would like to hear that some day." Was what she replied with.

"You shall, one day."

"Not stuck in here you won't!" A voice whispered; it didn't belong to her or Thorin. She sat up quickly and turned to where the voice had come from, it was the door of the cell. She stood up and went to the door, peering out through the bars of the small window in it, Thorin did the same. But there was no-one there, the corridor was empty,

"Who's there?" Thorin said, and suddenly someone appeared right in front of the door,

"Bilbo!" She exclaimed, remembering he hadn't been captured with the rest of them.

"Shh." His voice fell to a whisper, "I can help you get out, I know where all of the other dwarves are being held. I am glad the two of you are together, I was beginning to worry about where you were." Thorin seized control of the conversation almost immediately,

"Tell the others that I am being imprisoned here as well, and I am working on a way to escape. Tell them not to give up or tell the elves anything unless I say it is necessary." Bilbo nodded and twisted something in his fingers, a small golden ring,

"What is that?" She asked,

"I tried to tell you in the forest, the ring makes me invisible when I wear it."

"A fine thing indeed." She said, remembering how he had disappeared in the forest, she had assumed it was a hallucination created by the venom of the spiders. They spoke for another minute, but he soon grew wary of the guards and Thorin made him leave. He slipped the ring onto his fingers and as he turned invisible it was hard to tell when he left the corridor. After a few minutes they withdrew and sat on the bed. They didn't speak, but there was a renewed sense of hope in the air.

Time was difficult to gauge, but perhaps four days later Bilbo came to them again. He knocked on their door, and as they stood up the door of their cell creaked open. The hobbit stood in front of it and performed a mock bow,

"Bilbo Baggins at your service." A grin broke across her face and she whispered her reply,

"Idria at yours." And then he began to lead them through the cave. Every now and then he would stop and unlock a door, and out would come a dwarf. Their party grew and she wondered what would happen if they saw any elves, one invisible ring wasn't much good among many. But Bilbo had the answer,

"There is some sort of feast going on, that most of the elves have attended. There is practically anyone walking the halls." And finally, all fifteen of them were together again, and after a hushed reunion they were led away. Idria couldn't fully recall the way through the caves, but the passages were unfamiliar to her and it seemed they were only getting deeper into the cave systems. About to ask if he was lost, he led them into a room piled high with barrels and goods such as food and cloths. There was the sound of a river nearby, though she couldn't see one. And there was no way out,

"What are we doing here?" someone called out, "You were supposed to lead us to the surface."

"No, no." Bilbo said, sounding very sure of himself, "That way is too guarded, now quick! Into the barrels." Her eyebrows lifted as she examined the barrel. It seemed large enough, but she was sure it would become unbearable after more than a few hours.

"This will never work." She said, and the hobbit lost his temper.

"The come along with me and I'll take you back to your comfortable cells, and we can think of another way to escape. If I ever manage to get hold of the keys again, that is, and if I ever feel inclined to try." There was silence before Thorin spoke,

"Get in the barrels." And if any of them, herself included, thought against it they did not speak up. She found herself a largish barrel, she was taller than the dwarves after all, and half sat, half crouched in it. After a moment, Bilbo came and fitted a lid on top of it. The barrel was quite dark, save for a few small holes that created a soft glow. She worried that they would let water in as they went downstream, but there was straw in the bottom of the barrel, and she decided she could probably pack the holes with it. After a few minutes of waiting, she heard footsteps nearby and her stomach lurched as she plummeted downwards into the river.


	10. Lake-Town

Lake-Town

She was turned over and over, a few drops of icy water making contact with her skin. It wasn't too bad at first, but soon became intolerable. One particular spin made her hit her head against the wood of the barrel, and she bit her tongue. She sometimes tried to brace herself by pushing her arms out against the sides of the barrel. But she would either be knocked so hard that her arms would slip away, or would become unable to hold the position any longer. Thankfully after a while, her barrel took on a bit of water, and even though it made her cold and miserable, it weighed down the barrel and made its movements a little slower. She was still uncomfortable, and she felt sick. The lack of fresh air also got to her and she wished they would wash up somewhere, so that she could take a few breaths of clean air. It didn't happen, and she kept being shaken about. An itch developed on the bottom of her foot but she couldn't move to relieve it, and she was left with the irritable feeling for a while. And then her barrel suddenly lurched to one side and there was a loud crash as something hit her. She was thrown back a little and her head snapped back against the wood of the barrel. Then the world went dark and she lost consciousness.

When she woke there was water in her eye. She groaned and wiped it away, and then she realised she could move. Her limbs were stretched out and she way lying against a river bank. A dwarf stood over her, Kili, he said something and she responded,

"Five." A look of confusion crossed his face as she sat up and pulled wet hair away from her waterlogged ears, "Sorry, I thought you asked how many fingers you were holding up." He shook his head,

"How's your head?"

"Feels like it's been kicked by a horse. I'm never travelling by barrel again."

"Luckily, you won't have to. We're there." Standing up on her shaky feet, she was aware of the cold wind and water on her skin; her torn clothes didn't help either. She looked over her shoulder and saw it, The Lonely Mountain. A name had never been more apt. It stood alone, a single peak among the clouds on the edge of the world. A huge lake stood before it, and closer to them, out on the lake, was a town. The other dwarves were all out of the barrels by now, most bedraggled and weak, but some sounded as if they had colds or worse. Night was falling, and she wondered how many days she'd been in the barrel, floating down the river.

_In any case, far too long._

Thorin, Bilbo, Fili and Kili went on ahead to speak with the people of Lake-Town, and she stayed behind with the others. Her hand went to her right hip, but her sword and belt were gone, taken by the elves. She wished she had some sort of weapon, or at least some warm clothes, but hopefully they would get some from the town.

Nearly an hour had passed before the two younger dwarves came for them, as well as men from the town. After a few words of greeting, they were led back towards the town. She marvelled at how it could remain standing in the lake. It must have been made very well to stand in the waters for years at a time, without collapsing. She expected to be taken to an inn, or perhaps a small house, but was surprised when they were taken to a large mansion. It belonged to the master of Lake-Town, and he had been partway through a feast when they arrived. It was warm inside the hall, the heat from both fires in the building and many people all packed in beneath its roof. She claimed an empty seat by Bilbo, who was sneezing loudly. Despite the warmth, she still felt a little cold. That was easily remedied, she was served a mug of ale, and though the taste was strong, it served to warm her chest. The food laid out was nothing special, but she was ravenous, leaving the thin broths and soups to eat a hearty amount of meat and warm bread. The men at the feast grew more wild as they drank more of the ale, they began to sing and joke. They were all merry, mostly discussing the riches that would be gifted to them if they helped the dwarves. Idria smiled and took a long drink. The feast lasted for a long while, and by the time mornings light touched the town, the hall rang with her laughter.

She slept a little the next day, her headache worsened by the alcohol. Even though there was no prophecy that alluded to either her or Bilbo, the men treated them well. Idria was gifted with clothes first, dresses and skirts even though she would have preferred a tunic and breeches. And then she was given a weapon, though it was only a knife. Some of the master's ladies spent a lot of time with her, shaking their heads at the faint scars on her knees and forearms, where the bark of a tree had torn away some skin. Then their eyes widened when they saw the small hold in her right hand. They weren't interested in her adventure, so she told them little about it. They insisted on teaching her how to be a lady whilst she was there, how to sit, talk, and act. They also put her in one of the dresses each day and did something different to her hair each day, arguing amongst themselves until they thought it was perfect. Idria didn't mind, it was nice to get a little attention, even though she felt a little strange in their clothes. And over the next couple of weeks, she accompanied the ladies, trained with the dwarves, and talked to men from the town. And finally, it was the day before they had to leave. After freeing herself from the women, she went walking through the mansion by herself. She wore a long dress that was a deep red, black roses embroidered onto the bodice. It was slightly too long for her, the skirts were full and made a faint rustling sound as they ran across the floor. Her hair had been pulled back into a plait that fell between her shoulder-blades, down to her waist. As she walked the corridors, a man stepped out in front of her. He was tall, and his brown hair was cut short. She'd seen him before; he was one of the servants. He nodded when he saw her,

"My lady, you look very nice." Before, she would have told him that she felt nothing like a lady, but she remembered what the women said was a proper response, so she smiled and said,

"Thank you, you are too kind." He smiled back and she noticed that his nose was crooked, as if it had been broken once.

"I was just on my way to the docks to deliver some letters, would you care to accompany me? There's a very good view of the mountain from there, if you're interested in that kind of thing." She was quiet as she tried to think of a polite way to refuse him,

"That's kind of you, but I'm looking for… the leader of my party. Do you happen to know where he is?" The man shook his head,

"I haven't seen him today, but if you want, we could go look for him." She wasn't truly looking for Thorin, but now she would have to invent another excuse to refuse this man. She opened her mouth to reply but her voice was lost in another,

"There will be no need for that." She turned, and was unable to control the grin that appeared on her face for a few seconds as he approached. Thorin walked to her side and nodded at the other man, "Don't you have things to do?" the man scowled for a moment, before inclining his head and walking away. One he'd gone, they turned to each other. A few weeks in the town had done some good for him, he walked and spoke as if he already ruled over the mountain. He looked… she guessed the only word that could describe him properly was… kingly. She smiled,

"Thank you."

"Did you need anything?" He paused for a second, and then said, "My lady." Idria felt her cheeks flame red,

"I just… I just wanted to know, when do we leave tomorrow?" He looked over at her, into her eyes,

"Idria, remember our deal when we first met?" She dropped her head and looked downwards,

"You said you would either free me or kill me." He put his hand on her shoulder, almost in a reassuring way,

"It was a stupid idea of mine, forgive me for it. You're free now, you could stay here, I'd see to it that you were rewarded for your efforts, once I hold the mountain." With her face downcast, he never noticed the glint in her eye that appeared for a second, and when she raised her face it was gone. She exhaled,

"Do you think I could come with you? I want to see how this quest ends… If you wanted me to." He smiled and withdrew his hand, leaving only the warmth of it on her shoulder,

"Of course, we leave at first light." She nodded,

"I'll be ready." And she turned and began to walk away,

"Idria." He called after her, she stopped and looked over her shoulder,

"Yes?" He looked as if he were deciding what to say, and how to put it, then,

"That dress suits you… You look very nice." Then he turned his head and walked in the opposite direction. Her cheeks went a deeper shade of red and she felt the tops of her ears tingle, she opened her mouth to reply, but didn't know what to say. So she started walking away again, each footstep emphasising the distance between them.


	11. The Mountain

The Mountain

The horse underneath her moved with a constant stride, the feeling so much different to that of a pony. Idria had been given it, she was too tall to sit another pony comfortably and the ones in Lake-Town were smaller than those of other places. She wore a tunic and breeches, all the other clothes she'd been given, especially the dresses, were unsuitable for travelling. Her cloak was draped about her shoulders, she copper oak leaf that fastened it shone in the sunlight. They were travelling around the lake, towards the foot of the mountain. They had guides with them, but thought them useless as the men would not stay with them, so close to the dragon. She kept her gaze down on the ground, but once the train of ponies stopped, as well as her horse, she looked up. The mountain loomed over her, bigger than it had any right to be. Made of grey or black stone, few things grew on it, but there were sparse green bushes clinging to the side of it. Small piles of rubble were scattered about, she wondered if there were rockslides, or if the dragon had done it. Even when she helped the dwarves make camp at the base of the mountain, it weighed heavily on her mind. If she had been asked at the start of her quest, she would have said dragons didn't exist. But the dwarves spoke with such conviction, that she could not help believing them. Even Gandalf had stated that the hardest part of the adventure would be the issue with the dragon.

They spent the rest of the day searching the mountain. There were several small paths up the mountain, so she picked one and followed it as far as she could, keeping one eye on the mountain. They could not enter through the main gate, so had to find the hidden door. But if the door was supposed to be invisible, she had no idea how they would find it, especially her, she had no eye for dwarven handiwork. So when night fell, she made her way back down, and slept with her back to the mountain, facing the vast lake. The next day though, Bilbo found a flat surface of rock that they were convinced was the door, they moved some of their camp up to the area, and waited. The moon-runes on the map had suggested something about Durin's day, which was fast approaching. So they all waited, she tried to keep the mood light. She spoke to them all, trying to make an effort to know them better. She learned that Gloin had a son, named Gimli. Kili would become the next King Under the Mountain, if Thorin had no other heir when he died. Balin and Dwalin were brothers, something she hadn't known before. It helped to know, and she was glad they would tell her. They trusted her now, and that was the best thing they could have given her, rather than the suspicion she had been greeted with when they first met. One night, as they sat around the fire, she spoke to Thorin for the first time since they left Lake-Town,

"The name you gave me, Idria. You said it was the name of a woman who betrayed a king of Gondor."

"Aye, it is."

"Who was she? Could you tell me?" He stared into the fire for a while, and then began to speak in low tones,

"The king of Gondor was supposedly a just man. He was fair, and ruled with the help of a council. One of the members was a woman by the name of Idria. The king had yet to take a wife, and as time went by she was seen at his side more and more often. He could never marry her; she was of low birth, only achieving her position by clawing her way to the top for most of her life. She had nothing to give him, no riches, armies, nothing but her heart." Idria noticed that all the others had fallen silent, listening to the story, captivated,

"Some say she truly loved him, others say she desired only his power. Whichever it was, Idria began to spend as much time as she could with him, advising him and slowly twisting his way of thinking. Once again, some people believe she was always seeking to gain control over him, and others believe she truly loved him to begin with, but his rejection caused her to change. The things she advised him to do were less honourable, a knife in the dark or poison in the cup. And it was through him, her actions started the rebellion."

He paused for a moment for effect, and then continued, "Whatever she was before, now she was truly evil. She planned for the king to appear unfit for rule, so the kingdom would split and fight. Amidst it all, she could appear as the hero of the people, kill the _unjust _king and place herself on the throne. It was a foolish plan, but it almost worked. The realm fought with itself, and the king never again gained control of it. She convinced him he should crush the people, but was clever enough to make sure that no-one knew it was her plans; it always seemed to be the king's idea. And then, one day, she made her ultimate move. The king stood atop Minas Tirith, the white city, sure that it was filled with traitors. As he stood there and declared war, she ended his speech with a kiss upon his lips. When she drew back, his blood was on her lips and the people spoke of witchcraft, for some failed to see or believe the knife sticking out of his gut." She found herself leaning forward, wanting to see how the story would end, trying to decide if it really was true or if it was a fanciful story,

"Even before his corpse cooled, she usurped his throne and took it for herself. She thought she'd be seen as the saviour of the people, the one who had removed the stain of the king. But he had still had many supporters within the city, too many for her to stop. They burst into her chambers that night and screamed their anger. The crown was torn from her head and she was dragged away. It is said her screams echoed for a full week, as the people gave her over to the torturers. At first, it was just for a punishment, but she began to weep and told them of her plans in the hopes that she would be granted a trail, and a quick death. She pleaded that she'd been in a jealous rage, that the king would not love her. Yet as time went by and the torture became more extreme, the full extent of her treachery was revealed." He stopped and cast a steely gaze around the fire, capturing them one by one in his deep eyes. His gaze lingered on her for a second and she shivered, despite the heat of the fire.

"And what happened afterwards?" She asked, softly,

"The woman was paraded throughout the streets of the city. A golden crown was nailed to her head and the back of her dress was in tatters where she had been whipped, and salt had been rubbed into the wounds. Her fingernails had been torn out and her shoes were filled with blood, leaving a trail of crimson as she walked through the streets. They say she cried blood at the sight of her wretched self, but that would be impossible, for both of her eyes were gone. She was taken far from the city and left in the wilderness to die a slow, painful, lonely death, in terror until she died. No-one knows what happened afterward, her body was never found, and the trails of blood in the forest vanished into a stream. Some think that wolves claimed her, yet others insisted she got away and lived the rest of her life. But I doubt it, there is nowhere in this world a traitor should be welcome." With the last word, his voice died away and Idria wondered why he had given that name to her. A warning? Was it truly just an idea at the moment? Did he compare her to the Idria from history? The other dwarves withdrew, and she stared at him with wide eyes. He met her gaze, then rose and came to sit next to her.

"That wasn't why I gave you that name." He said, as if he'd read her thoughts,

"Then why?"

"Remember, Idria is dwarvish for starlight, when I first saw you, the night was so clear that you were illuminated with the starlight. For a moment, you looked ethereal. I felt like I'd found something I never even knew I was missing. I didn't want you to leave." She blushed, and was glad the darkness hid it. He reached across to her and turned her face towards him, held her head in his hand, his thumb across her cheek. She saw the glint in his eyes and knew he meant it; she tried to speak, but had no idea what to say. He drew her in closer to him, and then kissed her lightly on the forehead. Her heart soared and the blush on her cheeks was gone. When he drew his head back, he withdrew his hand as well. He gave her a long look and she returned it, feeling like she was finally seeing him properly. Then she looked away, back towards the fire, her hair loose and obscuring her face in shadow. Then she turned back to him and smiled,

"For as long as you feel that, I won't leave. If you'll have me, I am yours."


	12. Gold

Gold

The next day was Durin's day, and Bilbo was the one to solve the mystery about the door. When the sun set, the last rays of it shone upon a tiny chink in the rock no different to a number of others across the mountain. Thorin had a small key that Gandalf had given him, and it fit into the hole in the rock. And when he turned it, a large door swung open and showed a straight tunnel leading into the mountain. Despite all of the excitement, none of them wanted to risk going down right away, for fear of the dragon that may have been lying in wait. Eventually Bilbo announced he would go and check it out, after all, he would wear his ring and become invisible. Then he went down with Balin, though the older dwarf soon returned. There was nothing to do then but wait for his return. They spoke but a little, Idria leaned against the rock face, looking out across the long lake. She could see Lake-Town in the distance, a little smudge on the horizon. And from that high up, she could see the desolation of Smaug. There were huge gaps of barren land where trees once stood, but now only weeds took root. She thought she could see ruins of buildings, but they appeared to be made of the same stone as the mountain so she wasn't sure.

The ground trembled slightly, breaking her train of thought. She thought she could hear a roaring sound, it made her gasp. Then she heard the sound of feet slapping against the stone of the tunnel and saw the hobbit run into view. He held a single golden chalice that the dwarves examined with delight. He had spoken with Smaug the dragon, an amazing feat, considering he'd gotten back alive as well. Then the whole mountain began to shake, and the roars increased in volume. Bilbo grew frightened at that, and Idria found her hand resting on the hilt of her knife.

"I fear he's coming round now. He'll be able to guess where the tunnel leads and may tear the mountain to pieces! Our only hope is to be inside the mountain and shut the door." She was hesitant, not liking the idea of shutting herself away in the dark. But the roars grew closer and they had no choice. Grabbing everything nearby, they hurried into the tunnel and at the last moment, let the door swing shut. The blackness was consuming, but someone managed to light a single torch, and after that, it was a little easier to bear. They stayed there for a long while, time was difficult to mark. They slept when they grew tired and ate when they were hungry, they had enough food to last them for a while. It may have been several days later, they decided to chance the mountain. The door outside would not open, so if they wished to leave they would have to go through the mountain. So they paced down the corridor as quietly as they could. And once they reached the end, they sent Bilbo on ahead once again. Idria carried a torch, but it did not cast enough light to see much. Even so, there was a golden gleam before her that drew her gaze. After a few minutes, she heard Bilbo shouting,

"Light! I need a light!" She smiled and stepped forward to help him, sure that the dragon wasn't there. But she paused as the dwarves lit other torches and the full extent of the treasure was revealed. There were huge mountains of gold, coins, rings and necklaces, platters and goblets. Other metals were there too, silver and the rarer one of mithril. There were more types of gems and stones than she could name, most of them flawless. The towers of gold loomed over her; she could have climbed them if she wanted to. The others were taken aback for a second, before they did what dwarves do best. They began to explore the hall, taking the gems and other treasures that best appealed to them. After a moment, she joined in. She picked up little, but did fill her pocket with gold. Finding a ring studded with a small diamond cut in the shape of a star, she slipped it onto her finger. After that, her attentions turned to finding herself a sword. She had not acquired a new one in Lake-Town, but felt strange and defenceless without one. There were a few in the hall, but they were either too heavy or too large for her. One was too extravagant, encrusted with numerous jewels that she would have felt silly fighting with. She wanted a weapon suited for wielding in battle rather than hanging on a wall. Her gaze fell on a sword leaning against the wall, it was in a sheath decorated in small silver leaves and vines. She walked to it and drew it, and gasped at the blade. It shone with an inner light, and was a pale whitish colour, though it was translucent. When she touched the edge, it was the sharpest sword she had seen, pricking her thumb and causing a bead of blood to well up. It occurred to her that the blade was made of diamond, she doubted anything else would be as sharp or strong. A fine blade, she wondered if she could take it. The hilt fit in her hand quite well, and she decided to take it. Later, she could always find a new sword.

Once the dwarves had filled their pockets, they returned to their senses, and decided to move on before the dragon came back. They walked for several hours, making their way to an old watchtower. The journey took them onto the battlements outside the mountain, and Idria viewed the land from the world of stone. When they reached the watchtower, they built a fire and tried to settle down. That plan soon vanished, as Bifur and Bofur found a few old casks of ale that were still intact. The drink was potent, even after many years in the buildings, and lifted their spirits. Idria drank with them, toasting their health and fortune. And even though she'd been walking for several hours, she felt no need for sleep. Instead she sat up and looked around, keeping her own kind of watch. The others fell asleep and she was left awake with Thorin. He stood and smiled, his face flushed from the ale, it made him more forthcoming than he had been before. He lit a torch on the fire and walked off a few paces, and then, wordless, he beckoned her to follow. Taking care not to wake up the others, she rose and lit her own torch, then followed him. He obviously knew his way around, which was good, for she would have been hopelessly lost by herself. He led her to a small hall, treasures heaped on the floor, not so many as they had first seen, but still a small fortune. They were far away enough not to be heard, so he spoke,

"How do you like my home?" his voice echoed around the hall, making him seem even louder,

"It's a lot bigger than I thought it would be. I fear I'd get lost if I were here alone."

"I'm here with you, we won't get lost. And someday you'll know your way around well, I can show you." She nodded and dropped her torch, then climbed onto a pile of gold two feet off the ground, and sat on it.

"I would like that." He joined her, sitting on a slightly taller mound of gold across from her, so close that their knees were almost touching.

"You could stay here as long as you wanted to, you would never want for anything." As she answered, she examined the gold and gems of her seat, admiring each for a few seconds before letting it slide through her fingers,

"I don't remember ever calling a place home. But I think I'd like to, this place feels like a good place to be."

"It will be even better once I rule properly. Smiths from all over will envy the items made here, even lords will beg us to take their children as apprentices, as it once was." She cast her gaze around the room and smiled as she saw a silver harp against a pile of treasure. Walking over to it and picking it up, she held it out to him.

"You promised you'd let me hear you play." He took it and she sat back down, watching intently. It must have still been in tune, for when he ran his fingers across the strings, they echoed a soft melody. He began to pick out tunes, slowly at first, but then they seemed to swell in confidence and the music filled the room. He even began to sing softly, in dwarvish even though she could understand what he was saying, she appreciated the way that the harsh words twined with the melody to create a song. He played with ease, and it occurred to her that he could probably play people in much the same way as the instrument; he understood how to make them sing. When he finally stopped, the air seemed flat as the last note eventually died away. Smiling, she said,

"That was… I didn't know a harp could be played so well." He set the harp aside and nodded, his eyes meeting hers and causing her chest to flood with a warmth. She reached out to the pile of treasure below her and felt what was there, for want of something to do. Her fingers found a pointed piece of gold, and when she pulled at it, a crown slipped loose of the treasure. It was golden, inlaid with small gems and intricate carvings of mithril. Placing it on her head she smiled, it was slightly too big for her, causing it to tilt sideways at a jaunty angle.

"Does it suit me?" She asked, a laugh escaping her lips. Thorin only stared at her, the crown had belonged to his father, a smaller thing suited for meetings rather than feasts, light, so it would not trouble him. Yet the young woman before him, with the simple crown on her head, bathed in the ruddy glow of the makeshift golden chair, looked more regal than his father ever had, in all his finery, sat atop his throne. He couldn't stop himself,

"You're beautiful. I cannot believe I didn't see it before." She stared at him for a moment, weighing up what to say, then she took the crown off, but it did nothing to diminish her appearance,

"Thank you. But I suppose you're the one who should be wearing the crown." She held it out to him, but he made no move to take it,

"Keep it, it's a gift."

"What use would I get from a crown?" She smiled half-heartedly,

"It's fit for a queen." She was silent, but placed the crown on her lap, her hand not leaving the golden surface. He continued, "It would please me to see you as rich as a queen." He leaned over to her until their faces were inches apart. She could smell the ale on his breath, and he himself smelled of warm earth, smoke and juniper. Whispering, she said,

"Of course, My King." And her lips were on his, her eyes closed as he returned it. The kiss was strong, fierce as his hands found her back and pulled her to him. Her own hands rested on his arms as she pressed herself closer to him. She could taste the ale on his tongue. Before, it had been strong to the taste, but on his lips it seemed almost sweet. Breaking the kiss for a second, she gave a soft laugh against his lips, pressing her forehead to his. Then his lips found hers again and she lost herself in him.


	13. An Army

An Army

When they finally made their way back, Idria was smiling, the crown once again sat atop her head. Thorin's arm was around her, guiding her through the hallways. And when they reached the fire again, they drank more and she eventually fell asleep with her head on his shoulder, the crown falling forward across her eyes.

She was woken up the next morning by voices, her head was pounding and her eyes were heavy. Seeing the dwarves looking at her, she sat up quickly and blushed deeply. The crown fell from her head and hit the floor with a harsh crash. She stood quickly and staggered as one of her legs was numb. Attempting to smooth her hair down with her hands, she walked over to the bags of food and helped herself to some, needing something to distract herself. Then she spoke,

"It doesn't seem like the dragon came back." Dwalin shook his head,

"No." She smiled despite the awkwardness. Then she said,

"I'm going for a walk." And left the hall. She walked out onto the battlements and felt a cold breeze on her face. It helped soothe her head a little, which was a relief. It was early morning, the stone walls were coated with dew that sparkled in the sunlight. She leaned against it and sighed, her breath a cloud in the air. Below her, the land spread out, pale green fields that glittered with moisture. It reminded her of a (very fragile) diamond. The sun was pale; the light cast from it not yet warm. Shivering, she pulled her cloak more tightly around her and gazed up at the sky. The clouds were a purple colour, and a few stars still lingered. And as she gazed out, someone stepped up beside her.

"Here." She looked across and saw Bilbo, holding out a water bottle, "It'll help with your head." She grinned weakly and rubbed her eyes,

"Is it that obvious?" She said, taking a long drink from the bottle. The water was cool, she used the last of it to wet her hands and wipe her face. Then she closed her eyes again and breathed deeply, the scent of wet earth was in the air, wet earth and smoke. "Where do you think the dragon went?" She asked, the smell of smoke worried her.

"He flew away afterwards, that's the only explanation I can come up with that makes sense… but the ponies and the luggage we left behind would surely point him towards Lake-Town. He already suspected them of helping us."

"I hope they're okay. I wouldn't want the dragon to destroy the town." He took the empty water skin from her,

"Neither would I." He walked away, back into the hall and she was left staring out over the fields, watching the sun rise and gain in strength. She wasn't alone out there for long, Thorin soon came and joined her. He stood by her side and put his arm around her shoulders, she leaned into him and said,

"Last night. It was… I mean, I didn't think…" she was cut off as he kissed her lightly on the lips, then he drew back and smiled.

"I understand, but I meant everything I said." Unable to stop herself, she smiled back at him, his hands found hers, she held him with her left hand, but regretted that she could not move her right

"As did I." His gaze drifted to the land behind her and his brow furrowed.

"What is that?" She turned and her hand fell from his and raised to her mouth. Marching as one solid unit, a mass of bodies made their way towards the mountain, snaking through the fields slowly. And from the way they were equipped, she could tell they were an army. Some appeared to be men, but as they grew closer Idria saw that a lot of them were elves. Thorin spoke quickly, "Find the others, quickly, tell them to meet here. Go!" Turning on the balls of her feet, she made her way back into the hall. The dwarves looked startled at her haste, and she wasted little time telling them,

"An army coming from the south! It looks like men and elves. Quick, look!" they moved pretty quickly, rushing past her out onto the battlements. When they'd all gone, she followed and listened to their hurried conversation,

"Those pointy ears should get nothing! They've done nothing for us." Dwalin shouted, and the others agreed with him. They arranged themselves along the wall where they had a good view of whatever would happen below. After a while, a small party of people approached under a white banner. They called up, offering peace in return for compensation. Smaug had attacked Lake-Town it seemed, only to be brought down by a man named Bard. The master of the lake had been overlooked, the people saw Bard as a new leader. They had received help from the elves, and now they wanted a portion of the mountain's gold for rebuilding the city.

"Whilst your elven friends remain, not a single gold coin will leave this mountain!" Thorin roared back, Idria guessed he was still bitter about his imprisonment at their hands. Personally, she would have complied, if only to placate the elves and perhaps secure an alliance. She voiced her thoughts to Thorin but he shook his head,

"The more we give the more they will ask of us. They get nothing." She knew it would be impossible to change his mind, so stayed quiet and watched the reaction of the people. They threatened the company, reminding them that they were only fifteen against a whole army. Then The dwarves reminded them of their kin in the iron hills that would fight for them. To drive their point home, they shot a few arrows at the men and elves, though made no hits. And afterward, they found a way to communicate with other dwarves. There were old ravens living on the mountains, the oldest of which had lived there when Thorin's father, Thrain, had ruled. They spoke an old language that he (and her too) could understand. And so, using the ravens, they were able to ask Dain, from the iron hills and a relative of Thorin's for help, with the promise of reward. Then they had to wait for several days as the army grew and birds returned to the mountain, tempted by the suggestion of a fight that could follow. Idria spent a lot of time with the dwarves, practicing her sword fighting. The sword she had taken was indeed made out of diamond, they let her keep it. It was naturally sharp, she accidently injured them a few times as she forgot what it was like. And one time, when her and Gloin practiced, she parried his axe with the blade, and then struck with a blow that sent the axe head spinning away to hit the ground by his feet.

A few days later, the messengers from the army came back. She noticed a small wooden casket they carried with them, and wondered what was in it. They called up to her, and she went and found Thorin and some of the others,

"They're back." And they went back to the battlements and looked down. They called up,

"Have you changed your mind yet?"

"Have your elvish friends gone yet?"

"They are our good friends, we won't see them leave without our friendship. That would be rude."

"Until you decide otherwise, nothing will be gifted to you." Thorin said, she was sure that he meant it. He would sit atop the wall until his beard touched the ground if he had to, regardless of how long it took. It was a strength she doubted many people had. It took her by surprise when Bard took the small wooden casket and said,

"Perhaps you are willing to trade." And then he opened it and lifted up the object inside of it. It took her breath away, and even though she'd only heard it described vaguely, she knew what it was. The Arkenstone, the heart of the mountain. It was a large gem, white, shot through with fragments of blue and orange that seemed to swirl within the smooth jewel. It almost shone with its own light, making it appear as bright as a star. Thorin was incredulous,

"How did you come across the stone of kings?"

"That is not for us to say, will you trade it for our share of the gold?"

"It was me who gave it to them!" Bilbo said in a squeak, timid as a kitten cornered by a dog. Thorin flew into a rage, he grabbed Bilbo and shook him,

"You miserable hobbit! You undersized… _Burglar!_" he spat out the last word and lifted the hobbit up, as if he meant to push him over the wall. Suddenly and smoothly she was by his side, putting her hand on his shoulder,

"Please don't." she murmured softly, she didn't want to see Bilbo come to harm, he was good company. He didn't respond, a booming voice sounded out.

"Please don't do that to my burglar! I would hate to replace him now!" It was Gandalf, the wizard had appeared by the side of the Lake-men.

"Fine." Thorin said, his voice filled with contempt, "I will pay a fourteenth of my gold for my stone back." He turned back to Bilbo, "Go scurrying back down to your friends, be quick about it. I do not wish to see you again, you are not worthy of that armour you wear." He turned his back and the hobbit quickly left, climbing down the rock of the mountain until he stood by the other group. Idria couldn't help feeling a sense of betrayal, she wanted to know why the hobbit had assisted the Lake-Men, did he truly not value the rest of them? They departed soon after, and Thorin began to speak about ways to get the Arkenstone back without paying their share of the gold.

"A fourteenth isn't that much." She said, "Perhaps you could just give them that, and be done with it." He shook his head,

"If that is the only way, then I shall."

The next morning, they saw a movement in the far distance. One of the ravens reported that it was an army of five hundred dwarves, led by Dain.


	14. A Battle

**_/Evidently, this chapter will contain spoilers from the book and film. If you haven't read the book or seen the last film, and have become emotionally invested in these characters (Like I have) Then you may want to come back later. Seriously, I'm sure the film will show the events much more dramatically, so if you wish to watch it as a spoiler-virgin, don't read past here until you've seen it._**

A Battle

Watching as the army drew closer, Idria worried about what would happen if the elves and men refused to let them past, as they most likely would. There could be a fight, and even if the dwarves could win, many would die. The party began to prepare as if for war, wearing thick armour and carrying their weapons all of the time. Thorin insisted that she be protected as well, and though not much armour fit her, she was able to find chainmail her size which she wore beneath her clothes. She also wore a helmet that was slightly too big for her, but nothing on her hands. Gloves that were too big would affect her grip on her sword, and her hands were the wrong shape to fill dwarven gloves. She considered taking a shield, but she had never trained with one, and did not have the time to learn how to use it. And since her right hand would not move, it would be awkward to rely on a strap to hold it to her arm, as she couldn't grip it herself.

When the army of dwarfs reached the one of men and elves, it slowed. They watched as it came to a stop and sighed as she knew that they would not be allowed to pass. Then the army of men came forward, bows drawn, about to rain down upon the dwarves.

"Ready the gate!" Thorin shouted, he would not leave the mountain, but would be welcoming the dwarves inside as soon as they got close enough. But then a dark cloud fell, a huge one that darkened the sky and sent a chill through the air. And then an army of black appeared, a shrieking rush that swiftly covered the horizon. Idria went cold as she placed the sounds. There were two, the shrieking of goblins and the howling of wolves. The others on the walls saw it and their faces fell. The armies moved swiftly, the dwarves soon joining with the elves and men, for goblins were a common foe of them all. They hurried about arranging themselves, and Thorin shouted, "To arms! To arms." And they rushed to obey. Her hand found her sword and grasped the hilt tightly as she watched the goblins charge forward. The elves were the first to meet the charge, slashing at the goblins and wolves with a grace that no other race could match. Then the men and dwarves joined the fray, though they were all outnumbered, and she could tell the fight would be a tough one.

"To the gate!" Balin yelled at them, "We fight!" She went with the rest of them, following them down stone paths towards the main gate. The sounds of the battle were muffled, but she could hear the shrieks and shouts. Eyes widening, her breath came heavy and she took a step back, suddenly fearful.

_I'm not ready, I could die!_

For a fleeting second, she considered running. If she hid within the stone city, she could prepare to run should something bad happen. She was only one woman, she doubted she could do anything much. But then Thorin stepped up beside her, and as if he sensed her mood, he kissed her once on the lips, and said to her,

"Stay by me, we'll fight together and the world will never overtake us." Her cheeks flamed with shame that she had even considered fleeing. She would have been abandoning him, and if they won this fight, even if he forgave her, she would never forgive herself. She whispered,

"Thank you." He smiled and then turned back toward the gate,

"Open the gate!" And as it came crashing open and the sunlight flooded in, she drew her sword and charged forward with him.

Outside, the lines of different armies had entwined into a single mass of bodies. She charged forwards and slashed her sword through the bodies. It was sharper than she would have believed, cutting through muscle and even bone easily. Pressing forward, the group of them were a sight of relief. Although she kept in the group with them, she didn't know how she managed it, she only focused on the goblins and wolves. She parried a cut that would have taken her head off, and saw the other sword blade snap clean in two. The blow jarred her arm, but she wasted no time goring her attacker in the knee and watching as he went crashing down. An accidental blow with the flat of her blade broke the leg of one small wold and made it yelp.

As she fought, her fear melted away. She realised that death would only come the second she let her guard down, not before. So long as she stayed aware of her enemies, she would be fine. As time went by, though, her arm soon began to tire and her legs burned. She began to move slightly more slowly, conserving her energy in a way she hadn't had to before. And somehow, they began to move apart, fighting in smaller groups. Standing with Thorin, Fili and Kili, the four of them fought non-stop. And still the ranks of goblins would not thin out, then rushed forward until it was like trying to stop a river with her hands. Blood flew from her blade, now stained a dirty red color. She panted, hair flying about her head and she wished she'd tied it back before fighting. Leaping towards a goblin, a stone beneath her foot twisted and sent her to one knee. The goblin brought his blade down towards her neck and she cried out, wrenching herself back. Then she swung her sword upwards and sent it through his chin, as his blood fell onto her. Pulling herself to her feet, she re-joined the three dwarves and stood at their side.

A goblin approached, cutting through men and even elves relatively easily, in a straight line towards them. When he drew close, he swung his large club at them. Thorin was the one to meet him, blocking the club with his axe. Then her attention was torn away as a pack of wolves approached and they had to deal with them. It took a minute, but then she turned back to watch Thorin. He had struck the large goblin in the side, but it seemed not to affect him. Then the goblin brought down his club and she saw Thorin step out of the way, she smiled and turned to fight another goblin, defeating him in four swings of her sword. And then she heard a shout, and turned to see Thorin falling to the ground, his legs tangled around the club of the goblin. He hit the ground hard and sprawled on his back. She screamed and tried to approach him, only to be cut off by another wolf.

"Move!" She screamed desperately, and behind it she saw the goblin bring his club down onto Thorin, making a huge dent in his armour. She screamed and drove her sword into the skull of the wolf. Then she yanked it free and charged the goblin. He had lifted his club again and as it hurtled down she barrelled into it, wrapping her arms around it and shifting it to the side. The momentum carried it downwards and her legs crumpled beneath her as she fell to the ground, but luckily it struck a foot away from Thorin's face. He lay with his eyes closed and fear once again flamed within her. Behind him, two other bodies lay, fallen. It took her a moment to recognise who they were, and a few seconds more for her to accept it. Fili and Kili… they weren't moving.

_No. Please no… _

Whilst she lay on the ground, the goblin tore the club from her grasp and hit her on the cheek with his other hand. The force of it made her bite her tongue and her head snapped backwards, the too-large helmet she wore falling off. He laughed at her, and it made her anger rise. She noticed that Thorin still drew breath, she could still help him. Her grip on her sword tightened and she rose, blood streaming from her mouth and dripping from her chin.

"I swear." She said in a snarl, "You will never touch him again whilst I draw breath." Anger burned in her chest and her grip tightened. She stepped forward and positioned herself between Thorin and the tall goblin, holding the sword forward, ready. The anger within her was a blaze, she quenched it to a spark. It would cloud her mind too much, though a little would help her defend herself. Then she shouted and charged forward, swinging with her weapon. The goblin struck out with her club and she dropped below it, knowing it was too big and heavy to parry properly. The dodge brought her into range, and even though the goblin stepped back, her sword cut the inside of his arm, from elbow to wrist. Wasting no time, her sword flashed obsidian as she tried to cut him three more times. The first two were dodged, but the third blow caught the goblin on his wrist and with a bright spray of blood, the hand was severed from his body.

The club went spinning to the ground and the goblin howled. Preparing herself for another attack, she leapt forward screaming. Managing to get his shield between them, the goblin bellowed and she hit the shield, but the sword in her left hand slipped past it to bury itself in the chest of the goblin. His black blood spurted forward with each pulse of his heart, and he fell to his knees with another roar. Another time, she would have felt joy, but the moment was too serious for her to take pleasure from it. She lifted her sword one more time, and watched as the diamond blade soared towards her enemy, cutting him in the right shoulder as it travelled diagonally across his chest. Collapsing, she wrenched the sword free and stepped back, looking down at Thorin, Fili and Kili. The two younger dwarves had not moved, and now she saw the grave wounds across their bodies, and knew they were either dead or would be soon. Going to their sides, she noticed that whilst Kili lay motionless, arrows piercing his chest and heart, Fili twitched. His eyes fell to Kili and he whispered,

"My brother…" And his hand shakily reached out towards his brother, falling short in the bloody mud. She knelt beside him and turned him over gently, his head fell back and she saw the red patterns and the wounds in his stomach. Closing her eyes, a single tear fell from her eye and splashed onto his chest. Fili murmured again,

"Kili… No." Then he let out a groan, blood pulsed from his stomach, staining his mail. He cried out, "It hurts!" His eyes fell to her, though they were clouded and she didn't know if he was seeing her. Then they filled with tears that ran down his cheeks, mingling with blood, creating pink tracks across his face. His hand lifted off the ground but he could not lift it enough to touch her. "Stop it. Please make it stop hurting!" A sob escaped Idria's lips and she cradled his head. She didn't want him to be in pain, but he couldn't be saved. Suddenly, she was aware of the sword by her side and the battle raging around her, and knew that if she left him he would die in agony.

_It's not fair…_

Bringing her head down to his, she kissed him on his brow, fighting more of her tears. Then her hand slid to the hilt of her sword and she slid it up to his throat.

"It's okay." She lied, and then with a single slash, his eyes widened and he choked, blood appearing on his lips. Then a sound like a sigh escaped him and his eyes screwed shut. Setting him down, she stood up again and wiped her tears away with her wrist. Then she made her stand over the body of Thorin. His armour was dented and he was unconscious, but he breathed, however shallowly.

She could never tell how long she fought for after that. It may have been minutes or hours. She cut down one goblin and another would take its place. Her world became less of a battle, and more like a series of one-on-one duels. Her arm ached but would not stop. Fighting to clear a space and protect Thorin, that was all she had to live for.


	15. A Death

A Death

When the army finally thinned out and she saw men and elves wandering through the fields, she realized it was over. Her sword tumbled from her hand and she fell to her knees, panting heavily, blood and dirt thick on her clothes. Fighting her exhaustion, she went to the side of Thorin. Taking his hand, she noticed he was growing colder and his breathing was becoming irregular. His chest was hurt, he winced and groaned when she touched it, she couldn't move him by herself. Standing up, she waved her arms at the nearest people, a group of dwarves.

"Help! It's Thorin! Help me!" They hurried over and gasped at the sight of him. After she told them what had happened to him one muttered,

"Probably broken ribs… and he could be bleeding on the inside."

"You have to help him!" She said, her voice higher in pitch than usual. The five dwarves built a makeshift stretcher and were able to carry him away, slowly. She followed, making sure to pick up her sword and his war-axe. They took him to a large tent, and he was attended by healers. She stood by his side, looking down with worry. It increased as time went by, the healers looked grave. Taking one aside, she asked,

"How is he? Is he alright?" There was a silence for a long while, then the elf she had taken aside spoke quietly,

"There is bleeding inside his body and the club broke most of his ribs. We can keep him alive for a few days, perhaps. But he will never recover, he'll die within the week." The elf withdrew before she could speak, and she was left in a shocked silence. Then she moved to Thorins side and looked down at him. His skin was pale, almost grey in colour. She took his hand and felt the coldness. Then she slumped back down beside him and began her vigil. He had to wake up, he couldn't die… The other dwarves came to see him, and became withdrawn when they heard of his condition. As if they accepted his fate, they took their leave soon to be alone with their grief.

Idria was by his side the first night, when his eyes finally opened, slowly. The grip on her hand tightened and he took a deep breath.

"The love of my life…" She gasped and smiled,

"You're awake." He tried to sit up, but groaned and slumped back down, she said softly, "You have some broken ribs, don't move." But it was if he could hear the lie on her voice,

"It's worse than that. I can feel it." The smile on her face disappeared and a tear fell from her eye,

"There's bleeding inside of your body… It was slowed with medicines, but… they don't think…" She pulled her hand from his and wiped the tear away, sniffing,

"I understand." Her left hand clenched into a fist which she brought down lightly on the side of the bed he lay in, he spoke again, "What of my nephews? Did they make it out safe?" Shaking her head, she said,

"Both of them fell in battle. I reached them, but Kili was already dead." His eyes widened and then screwed shut for a moment as he sighed,

"How?"

"Arrows pierced his mail, one of them struck his heart."

"And Fili?"

"He was still alive when I got to him, but mortally wounded. He died in my arms." Thorin's eyes opened again and the grief was evident in his eyes,

"Did he say anything?"

_He cried out for an end to the pain, he cried for his brother._

"Only that he was glad he got to come home first. He died bravely; I do not think he had any regrets." She lied, hoping he wouldn't be able to tell.

"How was he killed?"

_My sword in his throat…_

"A sword or spear through the stomach, I didn't see." It wasn't a total lie, it had been a sword, after all. Then she shook her head, hoping to clear the hollow feeling she had,

"Please, don't join them so soon. You can't die." He was silent for a long while and her breaths became ragged as she saw the look in his eyes, he had all but accepted his death. His hand rose and he placed it on her shoulder, drawing her in closer,

"I'm sorry, but I can't show you around my kingdom, or keep you by my side. You'll have to go on without me."

"No!" She said, raising her voice, and drawn by the sound, Gandalf entered the tent. She turned to him, speaking quickly.

"Please, Gandalf! You're a wizard, you must know some magic that can save him. Please!" He shook his head,

"Idria, once an arrow has been loosed, there is no calling it back to the bow. You have to let it go." Her teeth clenched and she fought to stop herself crying.

"My life began when we met, don't let yours end now." She said quietly, though Thorin couldn't hear her.

The next day, Bilbo arrived, after being knocked out on the battlefield and left there due to his magic ring. He spoke with Thorin, who wished to die a friend of Bilbo, with his actions forgiven. The hobbit actually cried, and replied that there was nothing to forgive. He left afterwards, and he spoke to Idria.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"You stopped that goblin killing me right away, you saved my life."

"I didn't save your life, I prolonged your death." He shook his head, and she sighed, "I love you." He put his hand over hers and coughed, before speaking in a fainter voice,

"I love you too." His eyes closed once more but his hand tightened on hers, "I go now to the halls of my forefathers. But perhaps one day, we'll meet again." He was silent for a few seconds more, before whispering so softly she could barely hear it, "But not in this world."

His chest fell as he exhaled, and as she watched, the grip on her hand loosened and his face suddenly became expressionless. Numb, she sat by his side and waited for the breath that he never took. Idria sat motionless, her hand tight on his, as if she could anchor his life in the world. But she couldn't. And finally, when he was cold, she leant over him and for the last time, kissed his forehead. Then she rose, turning her back on his still figure, her eyes still dry. Walking outside, she felt the sun on her face and realised she was still wearing her blood-stained clothes she had worn in the battle. The company was waiting outside, and they looked at her as she exited. The way they looked at her, they knew what had happened. But she had to say it,

"He's dead." The words were flat, and saying them made her realize that she would never speak to him again. She turned away from the dwarves and walked through the camp that had been set up. Ignoring the people within, she went to the edge of the camp, standing so it all lay behind her, with the long lake ahead. Then she ran, suddenly needing to get away from everyone. She ran south, along the lake, away from the mountain. She saw no people there yet did not stop until the camp was a blur on the horizon. Slowing down, she breathed heavily, then knelt by the side of the lake and put her hands into it. Dirt and blood came free of her skin, and she washed herself, working without thought until her skin was clean, though her clothes were still stained with blood and filth. Studying her reflection in the surface of the lake, the tears finally came. Silently at first, they rolled down her face as she knelt by the lake. But then she screamed, a single cry that echoed through the air with no-one but herself to hear it. After that, she sobbed, her eyes became red and she buried her face in her hands, nails digging into her skin. Shaking with the sobs that racked her body, she slumped over and grabbed a fistful of pebbles from the lake in her left hand, barely noticing as they dug into her palm uncomfortably. She drew her arm back and flung them at her reflection, tears marring her aim. Then she stood and drew her sword. She stepped towards a tree nearby and began to strike at it. Each blow sent a tremor up her arm but she ignored it.

All of her rage, frustration and sorrow had been unleased in a torrent she could not control. As she hacked at the tree, chips of bark came free and deep grooves appeared in the trunk, where her sword had struck repeatedly. She carried on for a long while, stopping only when it was too dark to swing her sword properly. So she dropped it to the ground, her cheeks dry where the tears had finally run out. She pressed her forehead into the tree and spoke, her voice harsh and raw, full of pity, self-loathing and contempt,

"_It should have been me." _


	16. Isolation (Finale)

Isolation

She was present at the funeral. Watching as his sword, Orcrist and the Arkenstone were laid across his chest, she hated how she had nothing of her own to give him. His tomb was sealed slowly, the space within growing darker as the stones were pulled across the tomb. When it was over, she left the city within the mountain and began to pack the few things she owned. Dain, Thorin's cousin had come to her after to funeral. After a few exchanged words, he gave her a chest of gold, with the crown Thorin had given her resting on top. He said,

"I know you were very close to him… so, here is some treasure, thanks for accompanying him on his quest. And if you wanted, you could stay within the mountain with us dwarves, or a home in Lake-Town. I would make sure you wanted for nothing." Idria shook her head,

"Thank you. But I'm going to leave with Gandalf soon, and find a place elsewhere to live. I wish to be alone." He nodded, she wondered if he were relieved she was not staying, then he said,

"Keep the gold, it may serve you well."

"Thank you." He left soon afterwards, as they had nothing more to say. Idria took some of the gold and with it, she bought a strong plough horse, and attached her things to it, including the gold, crown and her sword.

She left the next day with Gandalf, Bilbo and the army of elves. They travelled slowly, and she barely spoke to anyone on the journey. Whenever she was asked something, she would respond with nods of the head or grunts, when she responded at all. Idria was in a dark place by herself, and for the first time she had nowhere to go, no purpose for living. She had planned to venture west, back to the houses of Elrond, but could not bring herself to do it, there were too many memories of the company there. When they reached the borders of Mirkwood, the Hobbit and Gandalf were going to part with the elves and go around the forest. She rode up to the side of Thranduil, the elvish king. She spoke quietly to him,

"Might I stay here for a while? The forest was quiet enough the first time I came through here."

"Of course, you are very welcome in our halls." The king said, courteously, and she was a little surprised, he had no reason to agree. Then she remembered what he had offered her before, when she'd been taken prisoner by them, a long life for her skill at reading languages. He did not mention that now though, for which Idria was thankful. Dipping her head in thanks, she turned to say a goodbye to Bilbo and the wizard.

"Will you ever come and visit me at my home?" The hobbit said, in a friendly way, "You're always welcome."

"Perhaps, when the world doesn't seem quite as dark." He nodded and she said her farewells to Gandalf, and then they left. And as she entered the cool shade of the forest, she thought she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. But everything else weighed so heavily on her, she barely noticed.

First, she lived with the elves. For a few months she stayed within the caverns that the King lived in, as an honoured guest. She spent most of her time reading various books, any that she could find, and studying maps that were stored away. Then, just as even the most serious of wounds can heal, a shadow passed from her heart and she spent more time in the company of the elves.

They took her out into the forest sometimes, and showed her where to find food, and showed her streams within the forest. Slowly, she began to lean her way around a small part of the forest. They also taught her how to hunt, set snares and traps for the animals, build fires and prepare her kills. But it wasn't all survival skills. One day, the elven king walked through the forest with her, naming a great many of the plants and flowers that grew there. He also tested her skill at languages, determined to find her limits. She could understand any language that was spoken or written down, though she had only limited knowledge of speaking languages. She knew the language of men as if she'd been born to it, but only understood a few words of dwarvish and elvish that she'd picked up over time. And after she'd spent almost three years among them, she asked another favour of them. The elves were happy to help her out, and soon afterward they showed her what they'd done for her.

A days walk away from the caverns, they had built a home for her. It was inside a large tree, a staircase carved onto the outside and three small levels inside the trunk of the tree. Inside it, the rooms were round with curved furniture, made to fit. The middle floor was decorated floor to floor with bookcases, filled with scrolls and books of all kinds. There was even a tiny cellar among the roots of the tree, stocked with a number of wines. Her face lit up when she saw the home, and she turned to the king, who had accompanied her.

"Thank you so much, it's perfect." He smiled and nodded his head, then said,

"Our pleasure, you're a good lady." She turned and ran her fingers along the bark of the tree, amazed how the tree still looked alive, even though so much of it had been carved away. Thranduil spoke again, "I also have a gift for you, if you'll accept it."

"Yes?" She asked, wondering…

"I can enchant you, give you a life as long as an elf." She was silent for a while, considering. She liked the forest and the elves, but to spend a long while in the forest, the grief over the death of Thorin still aching her heart. He spoke again, "You do not have to forget your love, only move past it. In time, you may meet something else just as special." She sighed,

"You're right. I'll accept your gift." He smiled, then he spoke a line in elvish, the words overlapping until she could not make out individual words in the sentence. The forest seemed to reverberate around her and a chill in the air made her shiver. Then the feeling past and the elf stepped back, pale in colour, but smiling.

"I name you Idria Oakheart, a guardian of Greenwood. For as long as you stay in this forest, time will touch you only slowly, so you may see ages pass as you wish. If you ever wish for an end to the enchantment, leaving the forest will dispel it, though it will return should you return." She smiled,

"Thank you, I'll do my best to help your people."

And the years passed, and she did not age. She lived in the forest, living a day at a time, hunting, fishing and simply relaxing in the forest. The spiders that lived there never troubled her in her home, but she occasionally hunted them down too. She never again fell prisoner to them, instead finding them one by one and slashing at them with hate. They were fast, and tracking them helped her find her way around the forest and improve her stamina. Back at her home, the elves would occasionally visit her with a new book or bottle of wine, which she always insisted on sharing when they arrived. Travellers also got through the forest more easily, as she would often escort them through the forest, helping them survive. She received more things as payment, and one day, a traveller heading far west passed through. After accompanying him to the edge of the forest, she asked him to deliver a letter to the shire. It was addressed to Bilbo Baggins, and told him of her life in the forest. The traveller agreed to take it as far as a village named Bree, and then would find someone to take it on further. She thanked him, and then withdrew back to the forest.

It became her home, that forest. And not a single day passed without her thinking about her journey with Thorin and his company.

Idria thought her adventures had finished once she rode away from the mountain, but they were only partway through…

_**/We're done now with Idria's tale of her quest with Thorin and company. But there's more, sometime soon I'll begin to publish a second part, with her as a member of a certain fellowship. She'll explore middle earth more widely, meet new people (and reunite with some old ones) and she may even find love again, who knows? So ends the story; In Starlight, soon will begin the story; Unsung Hero. Thank you for staying with me this far, I think this is one of my favourite fanfictions I have written, though it may not be my best. Tell me what you think in a review, perhaps. **_

_**Once again, thank you. May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks.**_


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